| |
| Okay so I know a fair amount of time has passed since I last updated this, but I will try to keep this up more regularly. My grandfather came back just after I finished the room. I got all the furniture set up and the ugly piece of linoleum we dropped it out the window. When my grandfather came home he complained that we had not clean under the conners of where the linoleum had been well enough. He polled all the furniture out from where I had stuck it and vacuumed the whole thing. At least he put it all back. I even got the bed set up finally.
So allow me to tell you about this bed. I’m used to a mattress on the floor. I have my bed set up this way to insure that i never stick anything under it. You see I’m the kind of person who just sticks things places and under the bed is a great place. The trouble is that i’m really claustrophobic so once I have placed things under the bed I’m way too scared to go under the bed and get them. In case you don’t care for that argument for why my mattresses are on the floor you could simply go with the fact that I’m a little too tall to sleep comfortable in a twin sized frame. O course my grandfather wants me to have bed frame. I explain the trouble I have with frames just as have now explained them to you. Sadly my grandfather think that all of these reasons are bad, naturally he insists that I take this frame he and my father have very kindly brought up from the basement for me. I explain again that I would rather just put the mattresses on the floor. My grandfather at this point decided that I was being just far too unreasonable to deal with and so took my dad out of the room to have a talk with him about this. My dad said that the mattresses would be fine on the floor and that if it was going to make me happy to have them on the floor maybe I could just put them there. I won and the bed is now set up as i wanted it on the floor. - Mood:cranky

| |
|
| So I just wanted to tell everyone who has been following me through this, I have painted the room. Yes at long last the room that was green is now a very nice red brown. I could not be happier with it, and the best part was my grandfather was not there to say a thing about it. - Mood:cheerful

| |
|
| My grandfather was invited to Christmas with his son out of state. He is leaving tomorrow! I am so happy it will be six days for myself. To prepare for this trip the first thing he had to do was buy a plane ticket. Well as one might have guessed he could not look up the flights on his own. I suggested that he purchase his ticked on-line. Naturally he was less then sure about putting his credit card on the net, but I talked him into it. Then came the question round trip vs one-way. I thought we should get a round trip ticket, it’s cheaper to buy them that way after all, but he insisted that he wanted a one-way ticket so that is what we acquired for him. As far as I know he still does not have a ticket back. I figure at this point that will be my uncles headache. Having at last purchased the ticket my grandfather wanted to book a motel room for the night. I told him he really shouldn’t do that before talking to my uncle. It turned out latter that it was not just going to be my grandfather and my uncle but also my uncles two kids, a boy and a girl. Well my grandfather said that he would have to have a two room suit so that the girl didn’t have sleep in the same room with the boys. I once again told him that he shouldn’t book anything without first talking to my uncle. After a little bit of back and fourth of this he decided that it would be better to call my uncle before planning anything.
My grandfather decided that while he was gone there where some things he should have me do. If you have been reading my journal this should sound familiar to you. One of the things he wants me to do is sort the towels so that they are in matching sets. I told him that if matter so much to him why didn’t he just do it himself. He told me it was the sort of thing I should get used to doing. I told him that I could do it while he was gone, I figure it doesn’t really matter. I can sort the towels if it means I don’t have to yell at the old man. I also figure that while he is gone I will paint the room and take out the piece of linoleum. I have no idea what I will do with the linoleum but I will take it out. I’m also going to try and get the bed all set up and move some of my things into my room.
Have I ever told you about my grandfather phone? Okay well I have a couple of phone stories that I think I have not mentioned. This phone is so loud that you can hear it in the basement. Then when he answers the thing it’s like the person is on speaker phone. You can hear both sides of the conversation like it was two people standing in the same room. I cannot use the phone. What really gets me about thing is that if your the one calling him you still have to yell at the phone for him to hear you. - Mood:annoyed

| |
|
| Okay so this is not really day 12 at all, but does it matter? I say, not so much. I had something of an emotional break down a little while ago witch brought a pause to both my typing of these exciting adventures and my living with my grandfather.. This time however has come to end for the moment and so I have started again. So without further ado here we go:
A few day’s ago I went out to get paint for the room at last, my sibling and I found a color I can live and the whole works are now ready to go. We took my grandfather with us to pick out the paint and make sure he approved of the color, it is his house after all. Well, as we left he said we should take one car, so I said that was fine I would prefer to take mine, he is not a great driver and our parents have told us on more then one occasion that we should not drive with him. He told us that we should take his car and that we would sit in the back and he would drive us. I told him no that was just not going to happen and that we would be taking our car. He said our car was too low, I told him I liked driving our car so we would be taking our car. What I didn’t tell him was that I really don’t feel he can drive. Allow me to give you a brief example; my grandfather ignores street sign, dives in both lanes even if one of them is oncoming, and doesn’t fasten his seat belt. Okay, enough about his diving, the point is you can see why I didn’t want to drive with him. Finally he agreed to drive in our car and off we went. We went this place that was not far from Costco. Well my grandfather decided that we should get gas for the car at the Costco, but I told him I didn’t need any gas. He didn’t believe me of of course and said we had to get gas. I told him I had almost half a tank and really didn’t need any. He said if we didn’t get gas he was not going to buy the paint, to witch I replayed “That’s fine I thought I was going to pay for it away.” He the took hold of my steering wheel and repeated that we would get gas. I glance in the mirror to make sure no one was behind me and then brought the car to a stop. I turn to him and lost it completely. I started to scream at him, I told him that he was never for any reason to so much as touch the wheel as when I was driving. Now it may seem like I over reacted, and maybe I did, but he let go of the wheel and I was able to park. We did get paint I am happy to say and my grandfather continued on as if nothing had happened. He did apologize later. - Mood:aggravated

| |
|
| Finally the issue of painting and getting the rug have come to a head. I have decided that a deadline is needed and with this in mind I have issued one. I told my grandfather that I was tired of staying in the guest room and it was about time I had a room of my own so I could move my things up. He told me that sounded fine, so I called my father and asked him if he could bring the rug up on his next available day. So far so good, right? Well there is still a fair amount of furniture in this room and I have to admit I do not want all of it. Some of it I know I am stuck with, like the three chair and my grandmothers old dressing table. A couple of the things belong to my sibling, like the old singer sowing machine, it corresponding table (witch is small) and the chair that goes with it. However, there is one thing I will not keep and once I move my thing in I will have no room for it, and that is my great-grandmother’s set of drawers. It is large and kind of awkward, it looks nice though and I have emptied everything out of it. My grandfather thinks he can find room for it in the basement, witch is in fact what he is doing right now. The real problem that I have not brought back up with my grandfather is the piece of linoleum, hopefully it will be gone by the end of the weekend.
So as I have been typing all this, and I assume some of you have been reading it, the question has been posed to me how does all this make me feel. I find that if you just casually ask most people how they feel they will usually say “fine”. Well I thought I would take this time to tell you I am not fine. If anything I am angry, annoyed, peeved, I have some hope that when I get this room of my own and transform it so reflect me instead of him I will be able to handle all this better. I will attempt to create myself a sort of sanctuary if you will where I can retreat and relax. I don’t know what I will do if this doesn’t work... - Mood:worried

| |
|
| I came back to my grandfathers for dinner last night bringing my sibling up with me. My grandfather had dinner all ready for us when we appeared and it was quite pleasant, I have nothing to complain about, witch is sadly not the reason I started writing this. So Instead of telling all what a lovely time I had I will tell about the log-in screen. This happened over a week ago, but here it goes:
Now before I moved up here my grandfather had internet with compuserve and for the most part I think he was happy with it. He could click on the icon and up would come his e-mail, it didn’t matter to him that it was a slow dial-up connection or that it took five or more minutes to load google. He just liked having his e-mail come up when he opened it and from there surfing the net with an interface that looked like it an early version of AOL. Well this dial-up this was not going to work for me and I really didn’t want the only place I could access the net in the entire house to be in his computer room, so I talked him into getting a wireless router and switching his internet carrier to verison. Witch I am happy to say that he did. So now I can access the net from anywhere in the house and he doesn’t have to wait five minutes for anything to load. The trouble is that having switched from compuserve he no longer had an e-mail. So I offered to sat him up with a g-mail account, I like mine after all and it is free. He said that would be fine so I set it up for him and walked him through the entire process of what each of the steps where. As I finished I moved out the computer chair and told him he could log on now. This is where the trouble started.
As I’m sure most of you know there is a log-in screen before you sign into your e-mail, and g-mail is no exception to this rule so when I told him to sign in he just looked at me blankly and said, “You want me to do what now?” I explained to him that in order to access his new e-mail he would need to sign in, just type in his user name, password, and click the log-in button once. He looked at me, “What is my user name?” I told him that a user name was the name we had just created for the account, the part he had created for his e-mail, everything that came before @gmail.com. He looked at me, “Why would I type that in?” I tried to explain to him that he could not sign in with out a user name and that he would need to type it so he could access his new e-mail. He looked at me, “But it is the same as my old e-mail.” I took a pad of paper and wrote his old e-mail on it and his new e-mail under his old one, I showed them to him and explained that while he had used the same user name the end part was different as it now ended with @gmail.com and not with @compuserve.com. He told me he new that, so once again I prompted him to type in his user name and password so that he might gain access to his new e-mail. I could keep going with this but it would be a lot of the same, there are only so many different ways one can explain what a user name and password are. After about two hours of going back and forth like this, he still had not signed in, I decided to go to bed. He said goodnight and that we could figure it out in the morning. I have not tried to explain it to him any further, and to date he cannot log-in to his e-mail with me typing in his user name, password, and hitting the log-in button. - Mood:aggravated

| |
|
| So it snowed a last week, on Saturday in point of fact, now I was going to go up my grandfather’s when I got off work. Well as you might well think I did not want to drive half an hour in the snow across road that could well be freezing under my tires, so I called him. It turned out he had called me first to find out what time I would be coming up, but as usual he called my sibling instead of me. So I had to find out he had called me from my sibling. Anyway, I called him up to tell I would rather not drive up under those conditions, so when he answered the phone and asked me when I would be up there I told him it was snowing. He told me it wasn’t, I said that the snow had just started sticking to the roads where I was so I figured that it would be worse up where he was. He told me to hold on while he went to look. Now the holiday season has picked up and it starting to work it’s was into full swing, I was very luck I had a break in the customers and could wait for him to come back. He came back about five minutes later and told me that there was about an inch of snow on the ground where he was and so maybe I should not come up. I said that sounded fine and that I would stay at my parents place tonight, I never mention I had never planned to go up there once the snow started to fall.
So really I’m just going to mention this so I can remember to bring it up later, but in my grandfathers house there is this chair. It is a nice looking recliner, light blue, and other then looking like it is from the 90’s I don’t have a huge issue with it. The chair used to belong to my grandmother and when the two of them used to watch TV it was always the chair she sat in. Before all this happened I always thought it was nice that she had her chair and he had his chair, but now that it is my chair I am less sure about it. You see my grandmother was considerable shorter then I am, and it should be noted I am not tall. Anyway, like most recliners it has a head cushion, and when my grandmother sat in it this cushion was above her head, so I’m guessing she never noticed this and for her it might not have been a problem, but when I sit in it my head rest on that cushion. Now I am aware that this was designed to support my head but when I lean back in this chair the cushion pushes my head forward and hurts my neck. Now if I sit in it so I am not strait in the chair this doesn’t happen and I can rest my head against the side of the back, i find it quite comfortable in fact. Must to my dismay my grandfather doesn’t like me to sit this way. He says that my grandmother never sat that way so I shouldn’t do it. Now maybe this is just me, but is he trying to turn me into my grandmother? With this in mind the question comes up, should I get rid of the chair? - Mood:angry

| |
|
| Day 8
So yesterday morning my grandfather hit my car, well it’s only half my car I split it with my sibling. Anyway, he had to leave early today to go to some appointment and in the process of backing out of his garage he bumped into my car. I happened to go out and get something so when I walked by my car I glanced at it and I noticed right away what had happened. I have been worried that he would hit the car every time I went up there and it was almost a relief that it finally happened. The damage was really minor, just a couple of tiny paint chips and a little paint transfer from his car to mine, it didn’t really bug me. So when my grandfather came back and told me he had dented my car I told him it was no big deal, just a couple of paint chips, not the end of the world. Once he seemed to get that I didn’t really care he switched suddenly, and said it was my fault. He said that if I hadn’t parked where I had he wouldn’t have hit me, well that was true if I hadn’t parked there he wouldn’t have hit me at all. He went on to say that when he opened the garage door he was worried that my car was too close and that he wouldn’t have enough room, I asked him why he didn’t come back in then and ask me to move it. He said that he thought he could make it so he backed his car out but he had forgotten to look in his mirrors as he did it and so he bumped it. I just kind of stood there. I couldn’t believe that he would think he didn’t have enough space, not look in his mirrors as he backed out, and not come in and wake me to move the car if he thought he would hit it. Not only was he doing all this but he was now blaming me for the whole thing. I wasn’t upset about it before but now it’s pissing me off.
A little bit of good news to offer a balance, I finally got the rug up! So not I have bright red rug in the room that will be mine. It looks great. When my grandfather looked at it for the first time all he said was “Isn’t it a little load?” I told him it was my rug in my room and I liked it. He said it was okay then and left it at that. I was very happy. - Mood:tired

| |
|
| One thing I believe I have failed to mention is the TV. Now my grandfather has a nice HDTV and while I’m not sure of it’s size I would say it was no less then 21” and really it is a great deal larger. The trouble with this is that he has no hearing left to speak of, just talking to him means you must all but shout, when he has his hearing aids in it is better, but mostly he can’t hear. This of course effects his TV, he watches the TV at no less then 75 . Now this level of volume is painful to me and so I don’t want to sit and watch TV with him at all. When he wears his hearing aids he turns it down to about 60, witch is better but still not a volume that one can listen to. When I watch TV I have the volume set to 12 witch I can hear just fine. I don’t watch the TV very often because he controls the remotes most of the time, but when I do I tun the volume down. He doesn’t believe I can hear it at 12 so he always turns it back up. What I really don’t get though is why if he doesn’t want to watch anything I want to watch he still demands to tun it up. He thinks all contemporary programing is trash you see.
So this one day, as usual after breakfast, I was sitting talking to my grandfather. He looked at me and ask “Is there any medication you’re on I should know about.” I just kind of looked at him. He went on to ask if there where any vitamins I took. I just kept looking at him, eventually I told him that unless I had some kind of migraine I didn’t take anything. I guess that was the wrong answer because the next thing I know he is putting these pill bottles down on the table and telling me to take them. The first one he put down was cranberry, he asked me if I knew what is was for. I told him I did and I was right about what it was for. The next one he put down was labeled Cal*Meg*Zinc, well needless to say he demanded I start taking the things. I told him I would not take them, that I didn’t need them, and that I didn’t want them. well he didn’t like that but I finally got it through his head that I was not going to take them and I was able to put them away. Now I feel I should mention that these pills where all things my grandmother took before she died. I find thins to be more then just a little worrisome. - Mood:exhausted

| |
|
| |