Food

I'm a little bit stumped.  My sister and I are aware that mom suddenly is complaining about the food--food she has previously always liked.  We checked around and have found that it all comes out of the main kitchen, the same chef is cooking it, and basically, nothing has changed.  Mom and her new BFF are both adamant that "it's just dog food".  Given that she's on the Alzheimer's unit, and some folks may be at a higher risk for choking, selections might(?) be more limited, but nothing is being blenderized, so what gives?  All we can figure is that mom's found a bitchin' buddy, and since she doesn't really like where she is, but couldn't handle where she was previously, she and her BFF have decided to just let it rip on the food.  Maybe she's just tired of the same food--I dunno, but this is one of those things I'm going to just have to let go.  Mom is NOT in danger of malnutrition by any stretch of the imagination, so this one is going on the back burner  for now, and I'm not going to react to it. If it's not this, it will be something else.  Life just isn't perfect, period.

Last night, I ate my very first cheeseburger, with a bun, at Snuffer's, and it's been three whole months.  And, no, I didn't have any of their fries, but I'd have sold my mother for some, you can just bet on that.  I got the new smaller sized burger, and could have eaten the booth we were in, as well.  OMG...I'd almost forgotten what a bun or any bread actually tasted like, and after working out with a trainer yesterday, I was a meat loving maniac.  I made myself eat it slowly and Fred still finished his larger grilled chicken sandwich in about four bites.  Fred and his brother's tend to wolf down food--forget the actual chewing part.  Their dad was the same way.  Silly me...I like to actually taste what I'm eating, before I swallow it.  Not to mention actually chewing it.  I guess it's one of those primal things with men...stuff as much meat down your throat as you can, as fast as you can, since you never know when  the next Wooly Mammoth kill might happen.  Egads.

Lastly, Sis thought she had really hit the jackpot this morning when Fred invited her to go with him, in the car.  I'm sure she must have thought it was take your hound to work day.  By now she has no doubt figured out that no, it's not, and she's actually going to the Vet for a blood test on her Cushing's medicine.  It's a four hour test and she's going to be really MAD when I go get her.  Nothing new there.  Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, Sis.