Tuesday, 27 October 2015

Alphabetic Silliness

Much as I'm amazed at how productive I am (well, relatively) now I don't write here regularly, I do miss this blog. I'm not resigned to giving it up yet. Perhaps in winter I will make more time for writing.

In the meantime I have been keeping my reading list up to date. With all the efforts I'm putting into other things - crafts, homemaking, taxes (ugh) and now Thanksgiving preparations - I find I'm less inclined to read non-fiction and want a bit of fluff to lighten my thoughts before dropping off to sleep. This means trips to the library where I've been picking up some of Sue Grafton's work. I've read most of hers, but so long ago I no longer remember the plots.

It crossed my mind that she's given us a new phonetic alphabet.  Instead of Alpha, Bravo, Charlie (which previously in Britain were Able, Baker, Charlie) we could use Alibi, Burglar, Corpse, etc. I would hear Bill telling our post code as Noose-Evidence instead of November-Echo.

Wouldn't that be fun?

Sunday, 13 September 2015

Grandma's Birthday

I'm writing this back in April, having just been to a meeting of the WI where the speaker was talking about dementia. I wasn't much looking forward to going but I had things to discuss with other members and so I resigned myself to sitting through the meeting. It was much better than I expected - I actually laughed a few times.

Clara Rose (1890-1974)

The speaker had great passion for her topic: she worked on a ward for people with dementia diagnoses and her mother had dementia. Her presentation was part of a major initiative by the Alzheimer's Society to educate people in England about dementia. They had already met their first target of talking to a million people; we were part of the journey to the next target of 4 million. We played word Bingo and some sort of Simon Says game where we all pretended to be 73 years old with a six year history of dementia. She used a wadded string of fairy lights to serve as a model for the parts of the brain. She gave us a card afterwards to highlight "five things you should know about dementia":

  • It's not a natural part of aging
  • It's caused by diseases of the brain
  • It's not just about losing your memory - it can affect thinking, communicating and doing everyday tasks
  • It's possible to live well with dementia
  • There's more to a person than the dementia
It wasn't until she got to this last point that my fairy light flickered and I remembered that Grandma had dementia. That's major progress, as it used to be the main thing I remembered about her. I got to scribbling some notes at that point and I'm writing this now whilst I still have a chance of remembering what they mean.

Whilst dementia is not a natural part of aging, about a third of us will develop this after age 65. She pointed out that it doesn't happen the day after our 65th birthday, some people develop this quite a while after that time. Dementia is caused by several diseases, the most common of which is Alzheimer's, followed by vascular dementia. I got the impression that a fair number of women present had experienced loved ones with dementia as the variety of types called out was wide - more than I knew about. I don't think Grandma ever had a specific diagnosis back in the 1960s or 70s. Given her history of stroke, perhaps she had vascular dementia. I'd not thought of dementia as an umbrella term for a set of diseases of the brain; and why shouldn't the brain be vulnerable to disease just like any other organ in our body?

The fairy lights, meaning the parts of the brain, could flicker off and on; they could grow dimmer but remain lit; or they could just go out. Presumably there are analogous brain functions but she didn't really go into further detail. She did say that besides memory loss a person's thinking might be affected in a variety of other ways. They might confuse words and start calling something by a different, incorrect name. They might perceive things differently, for example a shiny floor might look wet; a black, rubber mat might look like a big hole; a patterned carpet might look like it's moving and be interpreted as 'snakes'. They might have trouble with logical order and have trouble dressing themselves, ie putting socks on over shoes.

In addition to the fairy lights another analogy the speaker used was of book cases. She asked us to imagine a person with dementia standing next to a bookcase the same height as themselves. This was a bookcase of facts and events in that person's life; let's say she is in her 80s. The books on the top shelf are the most recent events of her life; books at shoulder height may be from her 70s or 60s; the shelf at knee height might be from her teens; you can fill in the rest. She said the bookcase could be likened to the part of the brain called the hippocampus, where information is stored. 

We were asked to imagine the bookshelf rocking quite hard. She then told us to imagine the bookcase is only made of plywood and so it will move quite a bit when rocked. Of course the books nearest the top are most likely to fly off the shelves but the older memories are more likely to remain. This is a familiar concept to any of us who have known someone with dementia. 

She gave us some examples of events for our imaginary person, who was in her 20s in the 1950s. She used to put on her tea dress and her lippy for when George was going to come for her and take her down to the seaside for a bag of chips. Other memories were about raising children, having a part time cleaning job to help make ends meet, losing George to a heart attack (I'm making up some items that my own holey brain has already lost, but you get the idea).

Then the speaker asked us to think of a second bookcase on the other side of the person. This bookcase has the emotions associated with the facts and events shelved on the other one, but the emotional bookcase doesn't rock so much; perhaps it is made of good old English oak. The emotions remain. That part of our brain is called the amygdala. 

The speaker mentioned two scenarios that must be very common for families of persons with dementia. One is when there is a big argument and everyone gets upset. The family may comfort themselves that Mother doesn't remember a lot of things and she'll not remember the fight. She may not remember the fight, but she may well remember being hurt and angry. This may influence her behaviour in ways that don't make much sense to other people. 

Another scenario is where Mother keeps forgetting who they are when they take time from their busy schedules to come see her. They begin to think it doesn't matter if they don't make such an effort, since she doesn't even remember who they are. She may not have the facts straight about whether it's George Jr or her brother Henry, but she remembers feeling loved and wanted. So it is worth them coming to see her even if they don't get the response they would like to have. 

It is the last two of the five points that surprised me the most, and I gathered a few others there as well. I'm not sure everyone agreed that one can live well with dementia. I took away that a lot depends on what stage one is at and on having the right support - that is people who understand dementia, which is part of the purpose of this educational programme. I can see how a person with early dementia who is well supported could still enjoy life and perhaps even in later stages, though I'm not sure how one can tell. 

The last point she covered was to remember that there is more to a person than their dementia. An example she gave (fictitious or not, I've no idea) was of a woman who lived in a care home. She had the habit of tapping on any surface near her, tapping all day long. This drove the people around her nuts. One day her niece from Australia came to visit and they asked about the tapping. The niece didn't know way she did that. However, they were talking about her aunt's life and she reminded the staff of something they already knew, that the aunt had worked at Bletchley Park, where the Enigma Code was broken. They began to surmise that the aunt might believe she was tapping out Morse Code. Just holding that idea and remembering that this person had made an important contribution to winning WWII made everyone tolerate her tapping much more easily.

That's the point at which I remembered Grandma, who died when I was 18. She'd been senile since I was about 12, possibly before. I always thought of her as that 'dim housewife'; I thought that had she done anything to exercise her brain she might not have succumbed to dementia. Talk about blaming the victim! I think that's something we often do these days: comfort ourselves that bad things won't happen because we exercise / eat right / wear seat belts / etc. Grandma's dementia just took the form of her seeming to be lost all the time, even in her own home. She didn't have much to say at all, didn't remember the simplest of self-care routines. She seemed to just walk around the house picking things up and putting them down - sometimes somewhere they couldn't be found. She would sometimes remember to latch the screen door, though, particularly when Grandpa was outside taking care of the back garden! The poor man worked hard to take care of her in their last years.

I've written on this blog how angry I became with Grandma in particular when I learned (at age 54) that my Dad was adopted, decades after everyone else involved had died and I couldn't get any explanations. Over time, writing these posts, talking with people who remembered her before before dementia and piecing together observable traits from the pictures and clippings she carefully left specifically for me I have strangely forgotten her dementia. I know that she was lively, passionate, loving and dedicated. She 

  • was devoted to all her family
  • wrote hundreds of letters to siblings and extended family members
  • was literate and expressive
  • loved pretty clothes
  • desperately wanted a son
  • was fascinated by family history
  • was frugal
  • was perhaps spiritual rather than religious, as they seemed to change churches periodically, but Christian beliefs remained central
  • took pride in keeping her home tidy and pleasant

When I visited the link provided on the WI website and learned that we would be asked to become 'Dementia Friends' I was determined to say no. Although they said it didn't mean making any commitment to do anything like visit nursing homes and have tea with doolally residents, I was sure there was a catch. Turns out they wanted people to spread the word about dementia, just as I've just attempted to do.

Looks like they caught me after all...

Saturday, 12 September 2015

Rita's Birthday

If you read my post about Grandpa's birthday, you'll know I was looking for September traditions to remember departed family members. I nearly always blubber when I write these posts; Bill thinks I'm a bit mental I'm sure. Still, they are important to me so I continue.

2004 - our last visit.

Rita, who should have been 71 today, was my second mother; she was 12 when I was born and some of the most fun I had as a child was because of her. She took me swimming, to movies, to drive-ins for cokes and burgers, to amusement parks, shopping for clothes (including my first ever bra). I felt close enough to her to 'own' her - she wasn't Aunt Rita or my Aunt Rita: she was My Rita.

The obvious things that I can do in September that she would appreciate are sewing, shopping, travel and clothes. Rita loved all these things. 

As it happens, we are planning a trip to Barnard Castle, only about 50 miles away, just for a few days. Bill will be able to walk in the countryside near our motor home park, I will be able to browse the shops (especially the charity shops) in the town. I'm taking my sewing machine (just back from being serviced) to work on Christmas presents. The main reason we're going to Barnard Castle is because it is near the fabulous Bowes Museum, We've been a number of times, but I wanted to visit again because they have an exhibit on concerning Yves Saint Laurant, the man I adore for having made pant suits fashionable for women. I can't say too much how glad I am that he did. 

Sewing, shopping, travel and clothes...Rita would definitely appreciate all those things. 

Thursday, 10 September 2015

Grandpa's Birthday

Grandpa was born on this date in Minneapolis, Minnesota, in 1894, during what came to be called the Gilded Age.  The name came from a book by Mark Twain, published in 1873, calling attention to the major social problems of the day which had been, rather than 'whitewashed', 'gilded' over. It was a period of great wealth for a few, mostly related to development of the railways, but also of great poverty for many. I do worry some times that we are heading back in that direction; I hope I'm wrong.

The year before Grandpa came along, there was the Panic of 1893. I read an excellent book by John Kenneth Galbraith when we were in Budapest, in July this year. I realise The World Economy Since the Wars sounds terribly dry, but I actually found myself reading out bits to Bill and we had loads to talk about and even laughed. I can't recommend it highly enough. It explains - in very readable terms - so much that we all ought to understand. For example, the terms 'panic' (which sounds very tabloid-extreme), 'depression' and 'recession' are all exactly the same thing. The names change as the politicians try to make it sound less serious than it is.

Grandpa was the youngest of nine children. His father was a blacksmith who made ploughs. Grandpa's mother died when he was 10, his father when he was 17. 

Grandpa in 1960-something.

The 1890s were also referred to as the Gay Nineties (in Britain they called it the Naughty Nineties) though things don't sound like they were all that wonderful. The 'hilarity' - because that's what gay meant back then - seems to relate to the writing of Oscar Wilde, the art of Aubrey Beardsley (art nouveau!) and the beginnings of the suffragette movement. 

Of course, a person doesn't really register much until they are much older. I think I may only have started paying attention to the world more when I was about 16. Grandpa would have been 16 in 1910. The census shows that his father, John (aged 69), was a still a blacksmith. His brother, Peter (21), worked as a butcher in a shop. His 28 year old sister, Clara and her 7 year old son, Johnny, lived with them. She had been widowed after only a couple of years of marriage; her son was only one at the time. My dad used to talk about his cousin, Johnny. 

I found some images for 'life in Minnesota in 1910' that are rather evocative and make me better appreciate the broad life experience Grandpa had during his 78 years (1894-1973); the world changed a great deal during his lifetime. 

On a slightly different tangent, Norma (my 2nd cousin) just lost her husband, Art. He passed away at the end of August at the age of 86. They were married for 62 years. I've written about our visits with them. I only spent perhaps a dozen days with Art, if that, but he was lovely. I really enjoyed his company not just because he was kind and interesting but also because his mannerisms and his speech reminded me so much of my Grandpa. 

That little boy, Johnny, who lost his father when he was only 1? He was Norma's father. She was the one who told me the whole family called my Grandpa 'Jake' (short for Jacob), not just my Grandma. Everyone else called him Jack. He and Grandma were married for 60 years. 

I was thinking the other day about 'family traditions' - about traditions of any kind. After listing the obvious holidays, birthdays and anniversaries I was noticing there weren't many we tend to observe in late summer/early autumn. Then I realised that three birthdays fall in September, Grandpa's, Grandma's and Rita's. I was thinking about them and trying to encapsulate what sorts of things each of them loved to do, things they appreciated, things that reminded me of them. My remembrance posts have become a tradition for me for all sorts of reasons, mostly because I'm really grateful I had such loving family members. Not everyone does.

So, sometime in September, I plan to do these things in remembrance of Grandpa:

- Read Mark Twain's The Gilded Age:  A Tale of Today

- Learn more about Aubrey Beardsley and his art

- Make a meatloaf (one of his favourite meals) from one of Grandma's cookbooks, using Grandma & Grandpa's meat grinder

- Play more cards! Grandpa and I spent hours playing spades and hearts, also checkers. He was always very proud when I was able to beat him. I made Bill play gin rummy with me when we were on one of our motor home trips earlier this year (can't remember if it was Budapest or Barcelona). I beat him fairly regularly, which is no way to get him to play more is it? I have a book of card games and we'll have to find one that we can learn together. I love playing cards; Bill only seems to love Spider on his computer...

- Look for some flannel shirts, wool trousers and/or black brogue shoes.

Do you have any traditions to do with your departed family members?

Saturday, 15 August 2015

Mom's Birthday

Today is Mom's birthday and I thought I might regret not having written about her; silly of me, I know. 

I found her 1935 senior high school school photograph on Ancestry a few years back and I see I've never posted it. She'd probably kill me for sharing it - no one ever seems to like their yearbook picture - but I think she was really cute.

Gone for 25 years now, but still cherished by her loved ones.

Wednesday, 5 August 2015


Today is Wednesday, my designated writing day. Though I have a list of posts to write I find my heart isn't in it. I have enjoyed writing here and have done my best to approach it with some discipline. However, given the list of other things calling for my attention I'm no longer certain that blogging is a priority, at least for right now. 

Nachtmarket, Vienna, May 2015

I've decided to take August off of blogging. We'll see if I can return with more enthusiasm in September. 

Tuesday, 4 August 2015

History of Jewellery - Part XX

Susan talked to us about Branding in the Jewellery Business, which got Bigger in the late 20th Century, though Tiffany's Blue Book Catalogue was first published back in 1845.

By the 1970s and 80s, Paloma, daughter of painter Picasso, was designing jewellery for Tiffany, some of which is rather similar to the famous silver hearts that were all the rage, by Elsa Peretti. Even I had some earrings with a copy of that motif (but not from Tiffany, of course). Paloma's silver kiss was also comparably affordable. 

Another company, "Bvlgari", she said was perhaps the Main Brander (so much so that they have the nickname "Vulgari"). And of course there is the famous quote from Eliabeth Taylor's husband, Richard Burton, who said "Bulgari is the only Italian word Liz knows." Bulgari designs fitted well with the lavish clothing styles of the 1980s and the power suits that women wore in the work place.

Liz's emerald suite by Bulgari

Versace's clothes also suited big jewellery pieces. Bulgari produced silk cord necklaces that came in sections.  Which may have inspired some of the designs of Pandora, a Danish company.

And this, my friend, brings us to the end of this series. Thank you for your interest!