Got Mom to the dentist today, a major outing for her. She lost her lower choppers somewhere in her old retirement center, heaven only knows who will sit down somewhere on a neighbor's couch and get bitten on their south-40. Dentist took first impressions (first impressions are important, they say) today, and will have her back in about a week for a wax bite match.
Dentures aren't cheap, but thank Mogg that her secondary insurance picks up 50% of the cost. And, she needs them - otherwise all she can eat is really, really soft stuff, and even that can be problematic.
Which brings us to the creamed corn. Racked my brain tonight to think of something tasty and edible for her (and us) and settled on a nice rice/pasta thing, falafel and corn. The corn was frozen, and I knew she'd never be able to manage it, so I said, "Hey, how hard can creamed corn be, anyway?" So I whipped up the corn in my handy-dandy, convenient mini-food-processor, stirred in a lump of butter, added a teaspoon or so of sugar, and a paste of 1 tablepoon of flour and 2 tablespoons of milk - then a dash more milk just to get the right consistency. I've never eaten better. The whole dinner was a success - Mom got full, and even though she didn't eat terribly much, she had some of everything and was satisfied.
We'll probably be working with soft foods for a couple of weeks until her teeth are ready - but it will take her about 3 more visits to the dentist before they are complete. It seems to be a complicated process. Strangely enough, she can handle toast just fine, and loves it - especially raisin toast - but man, and old ladies, can't live on bread alone.
Finished reading "84 Charing Cross Road" tonight - what a lovely account, and all the more pleasing because it's true. Miss Hanff was a charming, eclectic, and catholic (in the universal sense) reader and writer, and I was pleased to learn upon looking up her history that she indeed finally made it to her beloved London and met with the family of her correspondent, although he himself had passed away and the bookshop had closed several years before she got there. Mom happens to have the film in her library, and I look forward to watching it. Sir Hopkins is one of my favorite actors...
On that note, I re-watched "Remains of the Day" after reading the original book for the first time last week. My good wife made remarks along the lines of "The next time you want me to watch a depressing movie like that, just shove bamboo slivers under my nails instead" - and yes, it's a painfully sad movie to watch, but the acting by Hopkins and Thompson is flawless.
Also plowed through Dean Koontz' "Relentless" this week. It was a real page-turner, but at the end of the book I had the same feeling I did when I watched the last Indiana Jones movie. It took a very strange turn toward the end, and I had the impression he had forgotten which story he was trying to tell. Huh... I should write a tenth as well as Koontz does, then maybe I'd have room to kibitz.
Dentures aren't cheap, but thank Mogg that her secondary insurance picks up 50% of the cost. And, she needs them - otherwise all she can eat is really, really soft stuff, and even that can be problematic.
Which brings us to the creamed corn. Racked my brain tonight to think of something tasty and edible for her (and us) and settled on a nice rice/pasta thing, falafel and corn. The corn was frozen, and I knew she'd never be able to manage it, so I said, "Hey, how hard can creamed corn be, anyway?" So I whipped up the corn in my handy-dandy, convenient mini-food-processor, stirred in a lump of butter, added a teaspoon or so of sugar, and a paste of 1 tablepoon of flour and 2 tablespoons of milk - then a dash more milk just to get the right consistency. I've never eaten better. The whole dinner was a success - Mom got full, and even though she didn't eat terribly much, she had some of everything and was satisfied.
We'll probably be working with soft foods for a couple of weeks until her teeth are ready - but it will take her about 3 more visits to the dentist before they are complete. It seems to be a complicated process. Strangely enough, she can handle toast just fine, and loves it - especially raisin toast - but man, and old ladies, can't live on bread alone.
Finished reading "84 Charing Cross Road" tonight - what a lovely account, and all the more pleasing because it's true. Miss Hanff was a charming, eclectic, and catholic (in the universal sense) reader and writer, and I was pleased to learn upon looking up her history that she indeed finally made it to her beloved London and met with the family of her correspondent, although he himself had passed away and the bookshop had closed several years before she got there. Mom happens to have the film in her library, and I look forward to watching it. Sir Hopkins is one of my favorite actors...
On that note, I re-watched "Remains of the Day" after reading the original book for the first time last week. My good wife made remarks along the lines of "The next time you want me to watch a depressing movie like that, just shove bamboo slivers under my nails instead" - and yes, it's a painfully sad movie to watch, but the acting by Hopkins and Thompson is flawless.
Also plowed through Dean Koontz' "Relentless" this week. It was a real page-turner, but at the end of the book I had the same feeling I did when I watched the last Indiana Jones movie. It took a very strange turn toward the end, and I had the impression he had forgotten which story he was trying to tell. Huh... I should write a tenth as well as Koontz does, then maybe I'd have room to kibitz.
- Feeling:
tired
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One of the first things I chucked was the falsie box with the falsies in...urgh. I recall an episode of Steptoe & Son where they were clearing a space out, and the old man found a set of choppers he'd lost years ago... he grabs them and shoves them straight in, they fall out "Ooh my gawd me gums 'ave shrunk!"
When I had my lip ripped off and was eating through a straw, My Wife would bring home Chinese food, put it through the Bullet food grinder, and I'd suck it up. Fried rice and shrimp with black bean sauce, served at the consistency of Cream-o-Wheat, is WRONG, but damn it tasted good after oatmeal!
(also, if you've read Leo Marks' Between Silk and Cyanide: A Codemaker's Story, he's the same Leo as in her second book, son of the part owner of Marks and Co. Small world indeed!)
I rather enjoyed watching the movie they made of it (when I should have been washing dishes...), as they captured everything very well and hadn't left out anything important.