She's on a Roll

When I drove up yesterday Mom was sitting outside with a CD (Waylon Jennings) in her hand.
Two shirts on (what is that about?!), in spite of the 97+ degree heat.

We walk back to her room to get rid of the CD.
The display on the shelf today is two small tote bags she got at Target, her Christmas wreath, a bottle of lotion and a ceramic Christmas train, oh, and some CD's.

Inside her room, there are CD's all over the place. I give up on putting stuff back. I keep an eye peeled for jewelery laying about. Don't see any this trip.

I'm able to get her to change both her shirts. Several of the neatly folded shirts on the bed are dirty too.
"I'm scared of you" she said as I held a shirt out for her to put on. What??
She was laughing though, so whatever.
In spite of laughing, she was being a little cantankerous, "Stop acting like Granny." (her mother).
"Oh, how is she? Where is she?", her eyes lit up a bit. Her mother's been dead since 2003 or 2004, can't remember (we weren't close obviously).
"She's in the cemetery, she's dead Mom."
"Oh.", and the light died back.

Her wallet was out, so of course, I looked through it. She'd placed her Hallmark Gold Crown card in the ID slot. I pocketed her ID, SS card and medical cards. "I can't have anything!" Nope.
There was no money, but she should have $60 somewhere, she hasn't been anywhere to spend it. Her purse contains a large bottle of White Shoulders lotion, several small travel bottles of bath gel, a Sarah Coventry pin...and a pair of underwear.
She's all set for The Price is Right. Come on down!

We shuffle off to K&W Cafeteria. The road's been repaired in several places, "tar Pattons" she called the patched places. We laughed and laughed.
"I'm smarter than you." she then proclaimed and laughed her new slightly creepy "heh-heh-heh" laugh.

Sunday lunch meal: pot roast, watermelon, potato salad and buttered coconut pie.
All the carrots were placed to one side as Mom does not like them; I speared a couple on my fork and she said, "Oh dude!" (think she meant "two").

"Are you writing this down? Is this against me?"

A man in his late sixties, early seventies walked past us to pay his bill.
"He's built."
"Built? Was he handsome?"
"Yes. Sort of."
"He's a bit old for you isn't he?" (she does like the younger fellow in her dotage)
"I know."

A few minutes later: "I'm just looking at you to see if it's going." Alrighty then.

More minutes later, she's picking seeds from her watermelon: "Bing! Bing, bing!", as the seeds hit the bowl.
Then, "Oh poodle! I may have a poodle in here. You know how dogs are."

Wow.

She called me Mommy all damn day.
I asked her what my name was.
"Mommy."
No, my real name.
"Mommy."
I really don't think she can summon my name up anymore.

She didn't want to go back yet so we went to University Mall right next door.
Bought a jacket on sale at the resort wear store.
Sat in many of the new seating areas, people watching.
Wandered around in A Southern Season.
(Note to self - keep an eye on your five year old mother around the candy jars.)

There's a new store in the mall called "My Fairy Godmother", which is full of just what you'd imagine - pink, wands, tutus, butterflies, and other girly things.

Mom read the store sign and said, "I think mine's gone, don't you?"