At least the smoke alarms didn't go off...

On tonight's menu from our garlic chef:

Homemade guacamole and Pan-Fried Tortilla Chips

Yes, I think it was about as tasty as it sounds. Too bad, for varying reasons, there were ingredients in each item that we could not eat. He did bring me a forkful of the "guacamole" - unfortunately I don't eat avocados. Wink-wink...

I came back over and was folding some laundry when a new smell entered our living room. This wasn't garlic. It was burning. I immediately hopped up and rushed over trying to find him through the fog of smoke. He was opening windows and fanning the front door trying to alleviate some of the smoke and the smell. He assured me that the chips turned out just as planned and then he offered me one. I didn't even feel obligated to make up an excuse as to why I wouldn't eat that. I just told him "no" flat out.

I took him a bag of store-bought tortilla chips and, keeping his pride in play, turned me down because his were "just like he likes them." I left the chips there, just in case he changed his mind when I turned my back.

I tried to take a photo with my phone without being too conspicuous about it, thus the poor photo quality. But you can definitely see that the chip is totally black.

As I was walking out, he says, "hey, at least the smoke alarms didn't go off." Uh yeah, I'm thinking it might be time to think about replacing some batteries...

Is this what Baby Jesus smelled?

If you have read the previous posts, then you know that one of the guys next door likes to cook. A lot. And he doesn't really like to clean, so he generally cooks on the weekends when staff cleans up after him, or after 11 pm, when we are back on our side of the home.

It's easy to know when he starts cooking. The walls are fairly soundproof, but the scent has a way of coming through. The smell and ways to get rid of it are forefront on our minds. We were in a class the other day on building relationships with the individuals we serve and there was a "How well do you know your person" kind of quiz. When questioned about this guy's favorite food, Lowell wrote "garlic." Joshua calls it the "pungent odor" coming through. It has been a high priority to de-odorize our home.

We tried it all - Lysol, Glade, Oust - you name it. So Lowell took it a step further. He journeyed out to the local health food store and purchased a few things to try. The first thing he did was put peppermint oil on cottonballs and stuff them all around the crevices in the doorframe. No more garlic smell, now it smelled strangely like Christmas. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but you really hope company doesn't show up at the door. It's really not easy to explain why there are cottonballs EVERYWHERE.

The next thing Lowell purchased was a mist spray whose label proclaims it will "spray the bad karma and funk away with a mist that can't be missed." Don't really know about the bad karma so much, but there was definitely a funk in the air, what with the mixture of garlic and peppermint. And lo and behold, this spray does the trick. It literally sprays away the funk. But it leaves behind it's own very distinctive aroma. What is this spray you may ask? It's frankincense and myrrh. Yes, you read correctly, frankincense and myrrh, as in two of the three gifts Baby Jesus received. I grew up in a Christian home, where I knew the story and I knew the gifts, but I never knew firsthand the scent of frankincense and myrrh. Until now. And now every time I walk in the door, I think about the first Christmas and baby Jesus and about how blessed I am not to be smelling the "pungent odor" of garlic and whatever else happens to be frying up next door.

A day with my favorite boy!

Since we had training every day last week, I wanted to do something fun with Joshua on Saturday. After he went to swim team, we headed into Kansas City.

We went to T-Rex Cafe, which is like Rainforest Cafe, but with dinosaurs instead of elephants and gorillas. It would have been his favorite place in the world when he was four, and he seemed to think it was pretty cool even at twelve.

It was loud. Dinosaurs were roaring all through the meal, so it isn't the best place to go if you are looking for atmosphere for good conversation. But it was fun, and the food was actually excellent.

After checking out all of the dinosaurs, we walked around and shopped. It's fun that he is finally at an age where he enjoys shopping. And he isn't quite at the age yet where he doesn't want me to be with him. So it's perfect. Afterward, we went and saw "Paul Blart - Mall Cop" at the theatre. It was so much better than I would have given it credit for. Not that I want to see it again or anything.

So not much to report this weekend, except some down time with one of my favorite people in the world.

There's Some Strong Winds in Kansas

Before we moved in, we heard lots of stories about the men with whom we would be working and living. And since Lowell and I can both see, the holes in the walls and the MDF everywhere else did not go unnoticed for either of us.

Once we moved in, we began to hear stories about the damage to the van and exactly how it happened. However, we heard from the horse's mouth (meaning the guy responsible for the damage), that it was a very windy day, he opened the door, and the wind blew so hard that the van doors got all bent up. In his defense (because he definitely needs one here), it is really, really windy here.

Now I know Dorothy and Toto blew away from Kansas, but come on, really, how often do you see "wind damage" like this, unless they are tornadic winds? Even if it were the wind, we are having a hard time figuring out how he was able to accidentally damage both the passenger's side and the driver's side.

Insurance isn't too keen on covering damage such as this. (Crazy huh? You would think there would be some rider on the policy for those times when you get so mad you kick the car doors in, but, no.) So it looks like we may be driving a beat up ole van for a while. The good news is that we don't ever feel like we have to park far out in the parking lots to avoid a cart hitting us or a car door dinging the sides.

When You Turn Fifty...

Anybody with any experience working with individuals with developmental disabilities will attest to the fact that the best quotes often come from them. Lowell and I used to jot down the ones that we thought were especially funny. And I think that this is a good outlet to share some of the best. So, when we have good days, I'll share a favorite quote or two.

One woman with whom we lived always had the best zingers. She would pop out with things like, "I'm not coming to your funeral" or "I may visit, but I'm not putting flowers on your grave." When Lowell and I would get irritated at one another (and it does happen occasionally), we would often threaten not to put flowers on the other's grave. We also loved the day she emerged from her room complaining about a peer. She kept telling us that the peer needed to go to the doctor. When we asked what kind of doctor, she responded, "the nerve doctor 'cause she is getting on all my nerves!"

But my favorite interaction with her came the day we were talking about death (one of her very favorite subjects, as strange as it may seem). She was 77 years old, diabetic, had a heart condition and had lost a lot of family and friends in her lifetime. She was telling me over and over again, "When you turn 50, you die." About the sixth time she said this, I asked "Well how are you?" She thought about it a minute, looked at me dead on and said, "Well I reckon right close to 50."

When it's good, it's still crazy!

Today was a super day! We showered, put on clean clothes, took our meds, hung out, all without incident. But even when it's good, it's still kind of surreal.

After getting the pop this afternoon, we went to Dollar Tree to pick up a couple of small items. It's a relatively safe store, as everything in it, as the name suggests, is only a dollar. So there really is no occasion for fit-throwing. Generally speaking, if there is something strongly desired in the dollar store, it's not going to break the bank.

But today, we weren't quite as interested in the items in the store as we were the people. There was one woman in particular who drew our attention quickly. She was dressed in what appeared to be Muslim attire, with the long flowing dress and head covering. So, try as I may, we still seemed to follow her around the store, all the while yelling, "Hey lady!", or "How ya' doing lady!", or "Are you my friend?" I think it's safe to say that Muslim women in general are not prone to engaging in conversation with men, especially strange men. Well, we were having none of that and were going to be persistent. When he finally said, "I like your dress lady," she smiled and acknowledged him as she quickly made her way out of the store.

"Whew," I thought, "that's over." But once again, I was wrong. There was a man who walked by who we were sure we knew. The man wasn't quite as convinced that he was our friend as we were, but we soon had him agreeing we were all buddies before he slipped out of the store without making a purchase. (I'd love to see him explaining to his wife why he didn't bring home the dishwashing detergent he was clearly shopping for...)

One thing I can say about working with these guys is that they help us announce our presence everywhere we go. As embarrassing as it can be trying to distract someone from following all of their "friends" around the store trying to engage them in conversation, it probably doesn't need to be said that days like today are so much better than days when we are throwing things at people.

It does look like it will be a couple of months before we get a third person. This means we are losing our day staff for that time period as well. So not having anybody around who has been around guarantees that there will be plenty to blog about in the coming weeks. And chances are good, it won't be about all the new friends we are making in the community!

How to Open a Door

A phrase often heard when working with people with disabilities is, "They have taught me so much more than I have taught them."

Lowell and I said that just this morning, when one of our guys taught us how to open a door that is jammed shut. When I went next door today, the first thing I noticed was the door leading from the kitchen to the garage. I noticed it because there was a hole where the deadbolt used to be. My first thought was "Hmmm, that's interesting..." and I sat down to watch TVLand. (By the way, we did replace the television with a $40 deal from Goodwill).

When I later questioned the guys about it, the guilty party says, "Yeah, well it wasn't my fault. The door was stuck and the lock wouldn't work." So I asked the obvious question of "Did you ask staff for help?" I should have known the answer without asking...

He tells me, "The door wouldn't open because the stupid deadbolt was stuck. Staff should know that this goes against my rights because I have food in the freezer in the garage and I have the right to get to my food!" He then tells me that he had to walk outside (barefoot, mind you, although I'm not sure why since I am pretty sure staff was not restricting access to his shoes as well), and open the garage door from the outside. He didn't feel like walking all the way back around, so he just "rammed the door until it opened." Apparently it worked, however, now the door looks like this.

Not a great picture, but hopefully it shows the split down the middle as well as the missing deadbolt. So that's how you open a jammed door. But now how do you close it??

So now we now how to open and close a door that has been jammed shut. So much easier than asking for a little help, don' t ya' think????