A day of cool rainy weather inspired me to spend Sunday afternoon baking. I whipped up a double batch of bran muffins, put honey granola cereal into the oven to brown, and threw together some whole wheat bread dough. While Everett kneaded the giant glob for 15 minutes (this length of time is the reason I haven't baked bread since my kneading machine was flood-damaged over a year ago), I drove into town and picked Grandma up.

When we got back, we had apple pie (thanks Aunt Marj, it was delicious, and by the way I have been whipping through Melissa's book and will return it at the farmers' market on Saturday) with our tea. Then it was suppertime, and I insisted that Grandma, who was still full from the pie, eat something anyway. She managed to get half a toasted denver sandwich down her gullet, and insisted on drying the dishes afterward. After two years in the lodge, where all the cooking and cleaning is done for her, she hasn't forgotten how. No surprise there.

On Tuesday I went to town to take her to the hospital lab for blood tests. She has this scabby sore on her ear that never seems to heal. The hospital is only across the street from the lodge where she lives, but the day was cool so I drove her there and back. It took all of 15 minutes, but when we got back to the lodge she asked me where we had just been, and what for. I reminded her about the blood test. She said she didn't have any blood taken. After we got her coat off and hung up in the closet, I pulled up her sleeve and pointed out the tiny band-aid on the inside of her elbow. Evidence. Then she believed me.

On Sunday afternoon, several times she said she wasn't sure where she would have to go after she left my place. She didn't remember where she lives, she told me. This is a little disconcerting.

Her eyesight has failed terribly, too, since the retinal hemorrhage. She can't see well enough to zip up her own jacket, though she'll keep trying... and trying... and trying ... until finally I dare offer to help.

I must also remember to put a Rubbermaid stool into the van so she can get in and out more easily. At least now she is not taking my head off when I offer my arm as support during her exits and entrances. That one step is a very big step, for her. "A lot of people have to help me now," she remarked.

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Shelly, I answered your email just yesterday or a day or two ago, not sure exactly. It was short, just saying that I'm receiving your mails, but it sounds like you are not getting mine.