When I arrived at Heritage today, Mikaela in tow, I couldn't see Richard.  He's a head taller than anyone there so even though one of the staff motioned to the group gathered in the living room, I assumed they'd got it wrong.  Trotted down to Richard's room.  He wasn't there either nor was he in the tea nook so back I went to the living room.  One of the staff pointed him out to me.  He was in one of those thickly padded saloon chair bed things on wheels, the contraption where those who are really bad wind up.  

Tracey had tried to head me off at the pass, saying Rachel wanted to see me.  She found Rachel but Rachel was busy with another client.  It was all in Tracey's eyes but I didn't heed the difference.  I just assumed there'd been another 'incident' where Richard grabbed one of the staff by the arm which he does if he feels threatened.  But no, they were trying to warn me of the change before I saw him.

The change has been made because his psoriasis has flared up again and the skin on his bum is fragile.  I understand.  But they have also changed where he'll be fed.  He's moved from the regular dining room to the room where they hand feed them.  I've had trouble feeding him too, having to demonstrate what to do with food by eating myself.  

And then there's the sleeping.  He sleeps a lot.  Yesterday I only stayed with him for a short while as he couldn't be roused.  He'd had another day like that - where he basically sleeps through bathing and shaving and breakfast.  

The major causes of death with LBD patients is Failure to Thrive and pneumonia.  He's failing to thrive now and with the bed thing, even though it can be put in a sitting position, it seems pneumonia has suddenly become a possibility.

I've written to the boys, his sister and Helen about these latest developments.  And I've had a good cry.  Well, several good cries.  Tears in front of Richard too but he was too sleepy to notice.  The only time he perked up was when I said drug squad.  The police helicopter hovered very low over the property today. Apparently this is the season when marijuana crops are visible so they  employ helicopters to look for them.  This property would be ideal - but all they saw was a puzzled woman and half a dozen freaked out galahs.

Don't do drugs anymore but if there was a time where I wouldn't mind losing myself for a bit this would be that time.

 Teary.  Don't feel like writing.  As always went to see Richard.  He was asleep, deeply asleep.  Didn't respond to touch, the bedside light or his name.  The nurse said he barely stayed awake while they bathed and shaved him, that he only had a few spoonfuls of breakfast.  Sleeping more during the day is part of LBD.  That and the hallucinations and loss of memory etc etc etc.  

Richard sleeps much more than he used to.  Dozes off while I am with him and am silent for more than a minute or two.  Often I arrive and he's asleep in his chair.  Yesterday he made a lonely figure parked in front of the oversize tv in the communal living room.  Rows of empty chairs around him.  The others were playing a word game in a different section.  Richard's dementia keeps him from socializing.  He can't be understood nor does he understand.  

I try not to think what we've lost.  But sometimes...I miss him so much. 

 "It is a sad commentary on our times that one political party in America is given a free pass to denigrate the rule of law, defame law enforcement, cheer mobs, excuse rioters, and transform justice into a tool of political vengeance, and persecute, blacklist, cancel and suppress all people and viewpoints with whom or which they disagree. I always have, and always will, be a champion for the unwavering rule of law, the heroes of law enforcement, and the right of Americans to peacefully and honorably debate the issues of the day without malice and without hate." 

Gobsmackingly this is trump's statement after his second impeachment acquittal by the brave men and women of the US Senate.   What he perfectly describes is himself and his government.  Wow.  The size of the lie is breathtaking.  He has certainly studied the playbook of the Hitler and Stalin and Kruschev.  The bigger the lie and the more often it is repeated the more it will be perceived as truth.  

The senators who voted to acquit have surely sold their souls.  I recall reading how other soldiers during WWII viewed Americans.  In general naturally, I'm not speaking of individuals, but in general they were seen as somewhat lacklustre.  Entitled wasn't a word which was bandied about at the time but that's what the feeling was.  Heard a podcast in which I discovered each Japanese soldier received about 4lbs of support from their government, while each American soldier received about a ton.  Or was it 4?  So what is it in the American psyche which predisposes cowardice in the face of perceived danger?  Have all the senators who voted not to impeach received personal death threats from their constituents?  I'm sure some of them have.  The US seems to be succumbing to a collective insanity.  Even so, to be a senator, wouldn't you want to stay true to your oath to defend the constitution, even in the face of adversity?  Apparently not.

Hawley sat around with his feet on the furniture.  His upbringing did not instill basic good manners, that you don't put your feet up on other people's furniture.  Other senators doodled (Rand) or refused to watch the 13 minute video of the chaos incited by trump.  Believe that's called the ostrich approach.  If you don't see it then it doesn't exist.  What a sad sad day. 

I think I just heard the door slam on US democracy.

 As has happened so many times before, I am ashamed of my whiny outburst of before.  I seem to have no middle ground.  I am either profoundly grateful and trusting in Things as They Are or metaphorically shaking my fist at the universe while screaming 'Unfair!'

Have had time, actually in the midst of my panic, to ponder the earlier posts dissing Buddhism and Christianity for 'life is suffering' and 'original sin'.  And there in the midst of tears and snot - because yes I am ashamed to say I did have a howl - a part of me still said, 'Yes'.  Yes to life, yes to drama, yes to fear, Yes to It All.  

Maybe I wouldn't be so sanguine if my life was in actual danger.  Frankly I don't want to find out.

 Wisdom is not mine by default of years.  It's a process I am very much in the process of.

The book comes along.  Thursday was the AITS xmas party.  We drove across the border and had lunch at the Currumbin Life Saving Club.  A favourite place.  Looking north, up the long stretch of wide golden sands and azure sea, are the towering spires of the Gold Coast.  It is far enough away to be beautiful, like the Emerald City.  Maybe the Platinum City as it looks silver in the sunlight and isn't there already a Silver City?  Rocks below the two story restaurant attract cormorants which slide around beneath the waves like black mercury.  They are so sleek and fast and so unutterably graceful.  

So no writing Thursday.  Yesterday was Writers Group.  Meg pointed something out in my book I hadn't noticed which, with a wee bit of tweaking, adds another layer to the story and a character.  Thanks Meg!  Took myself off to lunch at the Crystal Creek Cafe (of fresh water turtle fame) and rewrote some portions to make the layering fit in the book.  

Yes, I'm  still going to 'do' lunch after Writers Group.  I don't live 'high' but I intend to continue to live well and if that means bottle instead of cask wine and lunch out once a week, so be it.  

And it's really true.  The book has written itself almost to the climax.  How exciting!  Haven't a clue how to write the end or what the denouement will be but an end and denouement will certainly come.

And!  Yesterday The Emotion Thesaurus: A Writer's Guide to Character Expression, arrived.  What a handy book it will be.  Wrote to Tam in my excitement.  Of course she already has it - as well as all the companion books in the series that go with it.

That's another thing.  Tam's book.  I don't think she has any idea how good a writer she is.  I listened to her read her chapter yesterday and thought, damn, I wish I could write like that.  But it's not only that, she has ceased apologizing for her writing.  She's just doing the work.  Something good can come from bad things.  She had a health scare...well she had a heart attack and didn't know it - something which is not uncommon for women - and I think she has decided there's no point in waiting or poopoohing her talent.  Life doesn't wait.  If you have it it in you to do and you want to do it, best give it a go!  And if you haven't already started, do so Now.

 Managed to write today.  Perhaps it was an escape.  Am over it now but had a bit of a blow.  Received the latest invoice for Richard's care and it was almost twice what it has been for the past 7 months.  Rang about it, thinking they'd somehow included the Queensland property in our assets like they did before.  Had to take proof in to Centrelink to prove we'd actually sold it.  

Unfortunately it wasn't that.  They've assessed Richard's income and with his income from the RBF and Centrelink he has to pay extra.  In short now I have $250 a week to live on.  From that I have to find money for house/car insurance, rates, phone, food and fuel.  Not to mention hay etc. and any other incidentals which might come up like, oh let me see $4000 in  the unexpected vet bills when the cats became ill. (Matisse is hovering now, he's not sick but he's not 100% either and at nearly 17, what can I expect).  Then the water pump, the leak in the shed, the lights in the car,  all those 'things' which happen and cost money.  The car is due for a rego check next month.

I rang the mob in charge of this but they were adamant.  It didn't matter I didn't have an income and won't have one until June next year.  I could apply for a 'financial assitance for residential aged care'.  I looked it up.  Don't qualify because we own the house and can take out a mortgage on it.  Uh huh.  Owing money is worse than not having any.

So I had a big cry.  But now, oh well, it is what it is.  Got to enjoy my apres Writer's Group lunches with laptop for a few weeks.  Foolishly thought they would continue - what a nice interlude they were.

So will try and live frugally but stuff it, will live off the savings as I haven't any choice.  I  patently cannot live on $250 a week.  Luckily we have savings.  With care I can make them last until June 2022 and still have some padding left over for emergencies.  Don't know what my pension will be but KNOW I can live within my means when it's added to Richard's earnings..  

And the other thing, the big thing which I forget when I'm scared, is I have NEVER gone hungry.  I've been almost broke a few times, $3 and change was all the money I had in the world once, but the Universe provides.  And it will provide for these extra mouths I feed too.  So it's okay.  I gave in to fear and despair.  I'm human but I do remember and I do KNOW.

 The book is getting to me.  Or my undisciplined mind is getting to me.  So far, have been fairly good at just writing as it comes, trying not to be overwhelmed by the immensity of what has to be pulled together to finish.  Had a major hiccup a couple of days ago.  Wrote and wrote and deleted and deleted and wrote some more and it just wouldn't 'fly'.  Finally, it felt 'ok', not great, but not so flagrantly wrong that I couldn't go on.  I'm not the type of person who can skip a difficult bit and go on to something easier....because one thing has to lead to another to lead to another.  It all has to follow on or lead back to with smooth logical transitions.

So got over that hurdle but the monster in the room lodged in my bed overnight.  Couldn't get away from the 'problems' of the book.  So defeating.  

Said a little prayer to the Writer Gods to get back on track today - and it worked.  After a shaky start had a few paragraphs of, if not brilliance, at least a satin sheen.

Now going to yoga to get the kinks out of mind and body.  And watch the storm come - complete with thunder and lightning.  Looked on the radar.  Just a tiny cranky pants storm cell over us and no where else!

 The luxury of time  - squandered.  When I experience a day like today - rushing here and there to be 'on time' - what exactly is 'on time' anyway? and then I 'waste' more time because of being so engrossed in listening to a speaker in parliament I miss the turn off and have to drive down the M1 to the Cabarita exit to get home == very late. 

Tomorrow however Art in the Shed is at Di's.  I have to go as I'm bringing the wine and nibblies stored here but not until 4.  Richard has a visitor so I'm taking Mikaela and myself off to a low tide stroll on the beach first thing in the morning.  Again, it's been weeks since we've been.  Granted it's been school holidays so absolute throngs of vacationers making good use of the beach.  Now however all the kiddies are back at school and their parents are back at work so the locals can get a look in.  Then home to write which I didn't do today.   

Maybe having a day off from writing is a good thing - have kept the momentum, have been immersed in the story yet allowing things to settle and percolate a little won't go amiss either.  It's been a little scary writing that 500 words a day.  Some days, when I'm 'in' a scene, it's okay as I know what needs doing.  Other days, haven't a clue.  

Think it's getting to me a bit as the pace increases and I've got to write (think - imagine - hope - pray) like mad to keep up.

What a rollercoaster.  Wouldn't miss it.  Hope it all turns out okay in the end.

 Each time I sit down to write I jump off a cliff.  Have to trust there is some sort of net.  Part of me envies those who write and know where they're going.  It's the fear which leads procrastination (CNN, Facebook, emails etc) and then I see the time and oh crap it's late and I'd better get started.  

Some days the writing is more like a tidying up.  There's a scene in existence and it's just writing into and out of that scene.  Other days, like yesterday and today, haven't got a clue so write to find out where I'm headed.  

Beyond this, the characters are filling out, becoming more interesting which means major rewrites when I get to that point.  Motivations are clearer, quirks, strengths and weaknesses - and the history which made them that way.  Have already written of this, I realize.  Guess it's just weighing on me.

The snake, my unwanted tenant, continues to live and poop in the shed.  Had no idea snake poo smells so bad and is such a tenacious stink.  Even after cleaning with disinfectants it still reeks.  Pretty positive he's a carpet python.  Probably a large one as I've seen the shedded skin.  But until I can plug the hole while he's out I'm stuffed.  If I prevent him from getting out he'll die and I don't want that - not only because I don't want to kill him but the stench of dead inaccessible snake is on a par with their poo.  

I could get a snake catcher or a carpenter - or both - to rip down all the plasterboard until we find him but what an expensive mess.  I'd catch him if I could get to him - and had a backup person to peel him off me and put him in a bag.

Spoke to Matt yesterday.  He said three separate studies found only 3% of snakes taken more than 100metres from their home survived.  They starve, they search for their home and don't eat or  they get depressed or become prey of other predators.  Which means over the years I'm guilty of the deaths of dozens of snakes I've caught and released away from the aviaries.  I never knew.

But some good news too.  Caught the little mouse making free with the shed kitchen.  Second attempt was successful.  S/he has been rehomed at Sweetman's park.  And mice are so adaptable he'll find a home quick smart.  Lots of food there and places to hide.

 Yesterday was the first day of the 2 meal a day diet.  Weight was starting to creep up on me (if I was a horse I'd be a 'good doer' shetland!).  Despite being pretty good with eating - no pigouts, etc. ounces were accumulating into pounds.  Uh huh.  So skipped breakfast and had lunch (my usual breakfast of fruit) around 12 and dinner around 8pm which means I fast about 16 hours.  Today is the second day.  Yesterday I weighed 56.3kg.  This morning 55.8.  Got the shakes around 3pm but not too bad.  Takes about a week for the body to adjust to the new regimen.  Last night wasn't difficult although I was undeniably hungry by 8pm.  

A couple of years ago I tried the semi-fasting (under 500 calories) for 2 days a week diet but those two days always felt a bit icky.  This is much easier and it's a lifestyle I can keep permanently.  Hell for about 30 years breakfast was coffee and a cigarette!  This is a piece of cake....wait, NO CAKE!