Yesterday was a Christmas to remember. For a while I thought I was living "A Christmas Carol." Unlike Dickens's plot, I was not seeing the ghosts, my aunt was. Unfortunately I don't know the whole story that went on in her head.
In Psychology, schizophrenia is one of the most severe disorders. The patients may experience delusions and/or hallucinations. My aunt would not be diagnosed with schizophrenia because of her age and on-going dementia. However the existence of delusions and hallucinations is all too real. For the past 6 months I have witnessed her delusions, being in a reality that exists only in her mind. The fact that these thoughts and false beliefs are expressed out of the blue is one of the things that is trying my physical and mental state as I try to care for her.
The purse/ money delusion
She is "normal" most of the day and is napping. I think that she will be down for 2 or 3 hours, and I sit to read or watch a movie. In the next 30 minutes I hear her getting up and is stressed out that she left her purse on the bus. Her purse has her identification and passport. She has also "left" her purse at some one's house after a party. I cannot erase this thought from her mind with rational thoughts. She may want me to do something or she will may just sit there anxiously looking out the window worrying about the lost purse.
It has been a long time since my aunt deals with money. She is not aware of how things are purchased or who buys the things. Yet, the money delusion will surface randomly, similar to the purse. With the money, she has forgotten where she left her money. She may start looking for it or ask me to look for it.
Daily chores delusion
She has delusions that relate to house chores. Every night, after she finishes her dinner, she will ask me if she can fix me something to eat. While the thought should normally be appreciated, it is frustrating. We go through several meal choices that she can cook for me and I say no to all of them. I explain that she has trouble walking, standing, and cannot stand to do these things. "Yes. You are right," she will respond. Five minutes later, I am offered another meal choice.
She recently told me that she was going to heat up some water to take a bath. This is a delusion to the Nth degree. Heating water for bathing takes her back to ancient times in Mexico, when I was a kid. That was the norm, heating water in the winter for bathing. She is not a lover of bathing. The fact that she mentions bathing tells me that all is not pleasant in Pleasantville.
Yesterday as she was walking back to her room, she almost fell as she tried to bend to wipe a spill that was not there. She also wanted to get a mop to clean "it" up. On another occasion she side-stepped a "spill."
The Hallucinations
Sometimes they scare me until I get my bearings. A few nights ago, I took some oatmeal to her room in the evening. I sat on the bed as she ate. Without raising her eyes or making much about it, she said, "Who are the two women in the window?" In another instance she had been in bed less than 30 minutes when I heard her call out. She was sitting on the bed pointing to the hall asking, "Who are those two children looking at me?" In both instances, I did turn to see if anything was there, hoping there wasn't. To soothe her mind, I went to the window and checked and closed the door so that the children would not stare.
Yesterday's hallucinations were the most intense since I have been here. The first "visitor" was a little girl. From her chair in the bedroom, she saw her standing outside the front door on the porch. I asked who it was and my aunt said that she could only see her from the waist down. On her way to the kitchen, she pushed open the bathroom door to check that the little girl had not been locked in there. When my sister came to visit, my aunt asked her about the little girl, worried that she could be run over by a car. Later she smiled and waved at "her" in the hall.
When she was having the afternoon coffee (I needed wine by then), she looked past me into the hall and smiled. I asked who she was seeing and she said, "Roberto Vidales." I don't really know who this was. With that name there was a half-brother of my aunt and his son. "Roberto" did not stay long. The only other unusual thing this evening was that my aunt did not have any supper. This is unusual because she has always been concerned about sleeping on an empty stomach. This is a diabetic concern.
She went to her room ready for bed early. I told her that I would be in to give her cold medication later. While I was in the living room, I heard her talking to someone. I muted the TV and listened. "You are going to be alright. There is no need to cry, tears are sacred. Why don't you lay your head on the pillow. Do you want me to bring you some water or some milk? Just lay your head down for a while. The body needs to rest and you can rest laying down." I go into the room and see her pillow at the far side of her bed and she is looking in that direction. "Maria" has come to visit. I don't know who this is/was. In reality my aunt id looking toward the piled comforter and blankets on top of a table. Since I could not get her to lay back, I took the pile of stuff out of the room and told her it was time to sleep. She was still asking for Maria and I told her that I took her to another room to sleep. My aunt continued talking for a while and then she fell asleep.
Reality
These delusions and hallucinations affect my aunt's reality. She tries to bend down to wipe a spill that is not there, or she wants to get the mop. She gets up without one or both slippers. She may get up to get a glass of milk for one of her "visitors." These are real actions that she takes or tries to take and the reality is that she may not be capable of these and harm herself. These are actions that need to be monitored. Another reality is that she gets upset that I do or not do for "her reality."
Right now, although she is napping before she eats lunch, I am vigilant listening for the sounds of her trying to get up. She has forgotten how to work the electric recliner and will try to get down instead of asking for help. I or someone has to be vigilant because she does not ask for help. She will struggle to get up from a chair or struggle to carry a glass of water, while she tries to hold on to the walker. Someone has to be vigilant to make sure that she swallows her pills and does not toss them to the floor. Someone has to be vigilant that she not feed the dog from the table, in turn making the dog sick, vomiting. When she goes to the bathroom, I check to see that there is not something that needs mopping or cleaning. I also have to see that she pulled up her diaper all the way.
The reality is that my aunt needs to be in a nursing home. While that reality will be devastating to her, in short time, another reality will set in to erase the hurtful one. I hope. I know that I am at the end of my ability to care for her.
It is what it is.
Joe V
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Projects
It has been more than a month since my last post, and much has happened since. I finished several of the projects on my list and I have pictures.
Fence
The back fence, chain link, by the alley was replaced. Thanks to my brother-in-law's help, this was a two-day project.
I did not have the money to buy the elaborate hinges, so I improvised. Thankfully, this is the only drawing on the fence up to now.
Fence
The back fence, chain link, by the alley was replaced. Thanks to my brother-in-law's help, this was a two-day project.
Kitchen
Previously the kitchen had a counter/bar in the middle. With the right stools, six people could sit around. This was the only dining space. After so many years, only two stools remained and they needed replacing. My aunt was also having trouble getting up on them. You may be able to see the area where the bar stood.
As luck would have it, the local Denny's was remodeling and selling their furniture, and I found out about it. The benches and the table top (not the base) was selling for $65. I made new bases for the benches and here is the new set-up in the kitchen. The bases will get paint when I paint the kitchen, next project.
The round table did not work as I thought, because my aunt needed to put weight on it to get up. At times, the folding flap was near collapse. I got the rectangle table for $26 at the Big K. If needed, I have other folding chairs. The kitchen door was another improvement. The old door (original to the house) was a wimp, allowing all hot air in and cool air out. The red mark on the floors shows how far the counter/bar extended into the kitchen space from the wall.
Monster Agave
You will remember this picture from the first post. I was hoping that I would see it bloom and die. It was not happening. While I waited, I was having to deal with infant and adolescent plants. I got tired of waiting. I decided that the agave should die. The agave did not see it my way. I started with the reliable "Round Up." I could hear the agave laugh. I stepped it up to concentrated Round Up. No wilting, drying or dying. I became convinced that along with cockroaches, agave plants would survive a nuclear blast.
My brother-in-law suggested a mixture of a defoliant he used on the ranch, mixed with diesel. This started to do the trick. The process was so slow that the plant seemed to be resurging. I could see some sprouting at the base and the outer rizoids. I started chopping. Finally, this is the result. The base of the mother plant was more than 6 inches in diameter. The roots were not deep, but they extended far away from the mother plant.
The area from these pots to the fence will be cleared, tilled, and prepped for spring landscaping. It looks like grass but I do not recommend sitting or walking barefoot on it. This was the site of the family business, a neighborhood "grocery/stop and go." Once I have transformed the site, I will post a before and after.
Storage cabinets
Although this was not a huge project, it was time and thought intensive. I had bought these cabinets to use as a bench seat in the kitchen. I decided against it because my aunt needed to sit back and not fall back. They were in the way here and there and at one point I almost gave them back to Habitat. I then thought of using them in the kitchen, but ultimately decided not. Here they are in the laundry/storage room serving as additional organizational space. I had to lose one of the doors for them to fit. Again, I thank my brother-in-law for helping me hang this cabinet. I cut it and prepped it, but I could not lift, hold, and drill.
Happy New Year
Joe V
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Time
Time is of the essence. A stitch in time saves nine.
Someone commented on my Facebook page, "Hey, what's up? You should have more activity on this site. Why have you not tidied up your page? Now that you are retied, you have all the time to do this." Although the quote is not exact, it is close.
Time flies. Time heals all wounds. Time....
What it is
Before I retired, I did think that I would have a different relationship with time when I did not have to report for work. However, I did not know how my time would be consumed in the care of my aunt. Lately I have begun to value MY time more, because I seem to have less.
My aunt has a care provider four or five hours a day, seven days a week. These workers are here either at 8 or 9 am. Their primary duty is to get her up, bathe her, fix breakfast, and clean her room. Lately washing of linens has become a daily occurrence. I would like to think that when these workers are in the house, that I am free to do what I want.
However, when I am away from the house, I am constantly looking at the time, because I need to be back before the provider leaves. On the day of a doctor's appointment, I can be assured that I will surrender 2 or 3 hours at the doctor's office. On the day of an in-house visit of one kind or another, I cannot leave until after the visit. In the last three weeks, my aunt has needed would care for a heel sore. Although initially the wound was being cared for by a visiting nurse, the responsibility was passed on to the family, me. This new task delayed my departure from the house until after 10 a.m.
My Time:
Going to the movies happens when the movie I want to see has an 11 a.m. showing. This will get me back home in time. On Sunday I have breakfast at Denny's, at 6 a.m. After, I go to the grocery store or WalMart to shop or browse casually. I have to be back by 8 when the provider arrives. The weekend person does not test blood sugar levels. Today I was finishing my breakfast at Denny's when the provider calls to tell me she is outside the house. I tell her that I am out of the house and that she is 1 hour early. She did not set her clocks and did not know about the time change. I have to get back to let her in.
I also get MY Time when my sister or my niece cover for me. I went to a football game, just until half-time. I met with some friends for dinner, until 7:30 p.m. I went to see the marching band competition, until 10 p.m. My time is limited.
I used to enjoy a glass or two of wine while reading a suspense paperback. In the not too distant past, I could sit outside and leave my aunt by herself and not worry about her. In her state, I may be sitting just outside the kitchen and she is there having her afternoon coffee, but I am not relaxed. I seem to be checking to see if she has gotten up and at the stove trying to cook. The other danger is her falling because she wants to go from here to there and leaves the walker behind.
Respite time/ MY Time
One of my aunt's benefits is respite care. There is an allotment of time available for her caregiver to take a break. The agency will pay for others to come and take over "my shift." This coming weekend I will take Thursday afternoon to Tuesday noon and be away from the house. This time away is not easy to arrange. The regular care providers can be here more time than their normal shifts and get paid for it. My sister and my niece will cover any of the holes in time. The schedule must be submitted two weeks in advance and approved. I am looking forward to Thursday.
Running out of time
I fear that my aunt is running out of time here at the house. My sister and I had commented that when she needed 24/7 care and we could not provide it, that she would go into a nursing home. My aunt needs 24/7 attention. She does not know what day or month it is. She has delusions and hallucinations at times. At times she does not know who I am. She continues to have the mini-strokes (Transient Ischemic Attacks). She refuses to ask for help with anything - getting out of bed, a glass of water, help to the bathroom, putting on her shoes. She at times does not recognize her body's messages about body functions. When she is lucid she can be argumentative and stubborn, not realizing that her physical condition is that of a 94 year old.
Caring for her is tiring and I accept that. However, caring for her has become a struggle because of her dementia. She will say, "I think I want to go to my room." I get up to help her up and going. She questions and refuses to go to her room because it is too early. I tell her that she just said what she did. I go back to what I was doing and 5 minutes later she is up and on her way to the room. I help her up from her recliner and she does not remember if she was getting up or sitting down. She will argue that she has not had dinner. I try to remind her of that fact. She will then ask me to show her what she had. The act of helping is in itself not a struggle, dealing with a brain that does not know one minute to the next is a struggle.
My choice
I had a choice and and I decided to come back to the Rio Grande Valley. I know that while I was in Washington, my family struggled with my aunt's condition. However, that condition has deteriorated since I saw her last summer. As she continues to deteriorate, it will be my decisions that impact the remaining time she has. In psychology one of the dominant approaches to therapy is that of choices and consequences. This has become a part of me. I may regret a choice but I don't dwell on it and I accept the consequences. I am a point where I need to choose for my own well-being. I need to make a choice that does not diminish the care that my aunt receives, and that is beneficial to my existence.
Joe
Someone commented on my Facebook page, "Hey, what's up? You should have more activity on this site. Why have you not tidied up your page? Now that you are retied, you have all the time to do this." Although the quote is not exact, it is close.
Time flies. Time heals all wounds. Time....
What it is
Before I retired, I did think that I would have a different relationship with time when I did not have to report for work. However, I did not know how my time would be consumed in the care of my aunt. Lately I have begun to value MY time more, because I seem to have less.
My aunt has a care provider four or five hours a day, seven days a week. These workers are here either at 8 or 9 am. Their primary duty is to get her up, bathe her, fix breakfast, and clean her room. Lately washing of linens has become a daily occurrence. I would like to think that when these workers are in the house, that I am free to do what I want.
However, when I am away from the house, I am constantly looking at the time, because I need to be back before the provider leaves. On the day of a doctor's appointment, I can be assured that I will surrender 2 or 3 hours at the doctor's office. On the day of an in-house visit of one kind or another, I cannot leave until after the visit. In the last three weeks, my aunt has needed would care for a heel sore. Although initially the wound was being cared for by a visiting nurse, the responsibility was passed on to the family, me. This new task delayed my departure from the house until after 10 a.m.
My Time:
Going to the movies happens when the movie I want to see has an 11 a.m. showing. This will get me back home in time. On Sunday I have breakfast at Denny's, at 6 a.m. After, I go to the grocery store or WalMart to shop or browse casually. I have to be back by 8 when the provider arrives. The weekend person does not test blood sugar levels. Today I was finishing my breakfast at Denny's when the provider calls to tell me she is outside the house. I tell her that I am out of the house and that she is 1 hour early. She did not set her clocks and did not know about the time change. I have to get back to let her in.
I also get MY Time when my sister or my niece cover for me. I went to a football game, just until half-time. I met with some friends for dinner, until 7:30 p.m. I went to see the marching band competition, until 10 p.m. My time is limited.
I used to enjoy a glass or two of wine while reading a suspense paperback. In the not too distant past, I could sit outside and leave my aunt by herself and not worry about her. In her state, I may be sitting just outside the kitchen and she is there having her afternoon coffee, but I am not relaxed. I seem to be checking to see if she has gotten up and at the stove trying to cook. The other danger is her falling because she wants to go from here to there and leaves the walker behind.
Respite time/ MY Time
One of my aunt's benefits is respite care. There is an allotment of time available for her caregiver to take a break. The agency will pay for others to come and take over "my shift." This coming weekend I will take Thursday afternoon to Tuesday noon and be away from the house. This time away is not easy to arrange. The regular care providers can be here more time than their normal shifts and get paid for it. My sister and my niece will cover any of the holes in time. The schedule must be submitted two weeks in advance and approved. I am looking forward to Thursday.
Running out of time
I fear that my aunt is running out of time here at the house. My sister and I had commented that when she needed 24/7 care and we could not provide it, that she would go into a nursing home. My aunt needs 24/7 attention. She does not know what day or month it is. She has delusions and hallucinations at times. At times she does not know who I am. She continues to have the mini-strokes (Transient Ischemic Attacks). She refuses to ask for help with anything - getting out of bed, a glass of water, help to the bathroom, putting on her shoes. She at times does not recognize her body's messages about body functions. When she is lucid she can be argumentative and stubborn, not realizing that her physical condition is that of a 94 year old.
Caring for her is tiring and I accept that. However, caring for her has become a struggle because of her dementia. She will say, "I think I want to go to my room." I get up to help her up and going. She questions and refuses to go to her room because it is too early. I tell her that she just said what she did. I go back to what I was doing and 5 minutes later she is up and on her way to the room. I help her up from her recliner and she does not remember if she was getting up or sitting down. She will argue that she has not had dinner. I try to remind her of that fact. She will then ask me to show her what she had. The act of helping is in itself not a struggle, dealing with a brain that does not know one minute to the next is a struggle.
My choice
I had a choice and and I decided to come back to the Rio Grande Valley. I know that while I was in Washington, my family struggled with my aunt's condition. However, that condition has deteriorated since I saw her last summer. As she continues to deteriorate, it will be my decisions that impact the remaining time she has. In psychology one of the dominant approaches to therapy is that of choices and consequences. This has become a part of me. I may regret a choice but I don't dwell on it and I accept the consequences. I am a point where I need to choose for my own well-being. I need to make a choice that does not diminish the care that my aunt receives, and that is beneficial to my existence.
Joe
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
High School Football
Yes, it is that time of the year again, "Friday Night Lights." Except, today's high school football is different from that of yesteryear. I went to a high school football game last week, primarily to see the band at half-time. I was excited as I walked the quarter mile from where I parked. I could hear the snare drums and the pep squad. The Star-Spangled Banner played as I neared the stadium. Everyone was decked in some sort of purple and white, the Weslaco school colors. I had on the only purple shirt I had, one from the University of Washington, with a small Huskie on the front. From a distance it may have resembled a Panther.
The stadium was not full, as the opponent, Brownsville Lopez, is a relatively new school and not a football power. Further evidence of the visiting team's weakness was the small crowd in the visitors' bleachers. It all seemed as I remembered. However, I soon became aware of how this game was different.
Back in the day when I was in high school, there were eight cheerleaders. They actually led the fan and pep squad cheers, with their pom-poms and megaphones. ( I am still looking for the yearbook to show you pictures.) Now there were 20 varsity cheerleaders, including four males. I cannot imagine having male cheerleaders in the 60s. They would not have survived the season. In addition, there were 20 Jr. Varsity cheerleaders and a covy of littler ones from elementary schools. The cheerleaders had chants and cheers, but I could not hear the crowd, students cheering along. The cheerleaders spent time tumbling, being raised on another's shoulders and posing. I don't know how that can promote a cheer from the crowd.
The stadium is a newer more modern than the one I remembered. Capacity is a big difference. This one has a capacity of up to 15,000 - home side, visitor side, and end-zone additional bleachers. The score board is a far cry from the one in the past. This one has a video screen. Every play is replayed. There are sponsors for first downs, and touchdowns. When the home team scores, we see the replay and then a picture of doctor so-and-so, the touchdown sponsor. What would a viseo screen be without advertisements - Sonic, WalMart, etc.
The other difference is how distracted the fans are from the game. The modern-day handheld electronic devices seem to be more important than the game. Of course if they miss a play, they can catch the replay.
Football snacks
If you are at a football game, you have to have something to eat. I saw two snacks from the past, Frito Pie and Valley Lemons. Frito Pie is a bag of Fritos sliced down the middle (leaving the ends closed). To this opened bag you add a laddle of chile con carne and voila - Frito Pie.
I don't know how to describe the Valley Lemons, using genus and species. It is a thin-skinned large lemon, green or with a yellow tinge. It is not anywhere close to the yellow lemons. Its formal name is Meyer Lemon. It is not widely known because it does not ship well. Because of its popularity in Sout Texas, it is known as a Valley Lemon. From an internet site, I found this description:
"Valley Lemons are a lemon variety that you can sink your teeth into! No sour faces here! Valley Lemons have a greenish color and are thin skinned. Sweeter than their regular lemon cousins, they are excellent for a less tart lemonade, desserts or garnish."
The stadium was not full, as the opponent, Brownsville Lopez, is a relatively new school and not a football power. Further evidence of the visiting team's weakness was the small crowd in the visitors' bleachers. It all seemed as I remembered. However, I soon became aware of how this game was different.
Back in the day when I was in high school, there were eight cheerleaders. They actually led the fan and pep squad cheers, with their pom-poms and megaphones. ( I am still looking for the yearbook to show you pictures.) Now there were 20 varsity cheerleaders, including four males. I cannot imagine having male cheerleaders in the 60s. They would not have survived the season. In addition, there were 20 Jr. Varsity cheerleaders and a covy of littler ones from elementary schools. The cheerleaders had chants and cheers, but I could not hear the crowd, students cheering along. The cheerleaders spent time tumbling, being raised on another's shoulders and posing. I don't know how that can promote a cheer from the crowd.
The stadium is a newer more modern than the one I remembered. Capacity is a big difference. This one has a capacity of up to 15,000 - home side, visitor side, and end-zone additional bleachers. The score board is a far cry from the one in the past. This one has a video screen. Every play is replayed. There are sponsors for first downs, and touchdowns. When the home team scores, we see the replay and then a picture of doctor so-and-so, the touchdown sponsor. What would a viseo screen be without advertisements - Sonic, WalMart, etc.
The other difference is how distracted the fans are from the game. The modern-day handheld electronic devices seem to be more important than the game. Of course if they miss a play, they can catch the replay.
Football snacks
If you are at a football game, you have to have something to eat. I saw two snacks from the past, Frito Pie and Valley Lemons. Frito Pie is a bag of Fritos sliced down the middle (leaving the ends closed). To this opened bag you add a laddle of chile con carne and voila - Frito Pie.
I don't know how to describe the Valley Lemons, using genus and species. It is a thin-skinned large lemon, green or with a yellow tinge. It is not anywhere close to the yellow lemons. Its formal name is Meyer Lemon. It is not widely known because it does not ship well. Because of its popularity in Sout Texas, it is known as a Valley Lemon. From an internet site, I found this description:
"Valley Lemons are a lemon variety that you can sink your teeth into! No sour faces here! Valley Lemons have a greenish color and are thin skinned. Sweeter than their regular lemon cousins, they are excellent for a less tart lemonade, desserts or garnish."
So what does this have to do with football? Football season and the citrus harvest overlap. Someone came up with the idea of inserting a stick of peppermint candy into a Valley Lemon and sucking. The peppermint stick serves as a straw. After a while you eat the candy, peel the lemon and eat it.
This is a cultural experience.
I left the game after I saw the band at half-time. I wondered if the traditions of the past continued. After half-time the home cheerleaders would go to the visitors' side and greet their cheer team and bring them to the home side to introduce them to the pep squad and band, "Pep Squad and Band this is cheeleader Becky." I somehow think that have 20 cheerleaders makes this tradition passe.
Band
Watching the band also showed me how this organization has changed. In my day, there was one drum major and 8 twirlers. We did precision marching, playing marching music - marches. Today's band is just this side of a broadway show. There are three drum majors. There is a squad of flag/banner people. There are props and backdrops/ screnary. The sideline is filled with instruments that cannot be on the field - tympany drums, marimba, chimes, etc. The show is usually a themed production, Fiddler on the Roof, Pirates, Westside Story. The only constant is the quality of the playing.
(not a home game)
I will continue to look for my year book and share pictures of the good-ole-days.
Joe
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Patio follow-up
I don't know how long I worked on this project, but it is finally done. The only thing that remains is to finalize lighting and pot plants. The planting will have to wait a bit more for the weather to get cooler.
OOn to another challenge.
Joe
I don't really know if another chair or table will make it into the setting.
I don't know if this view is helpful, but I wanted to do the opposite.
After I tried chiseling the stone, I decided that the transition from new space to old would be river-rocked. I did the same to the other edges.
OOn to another challenge.
Joe
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Martinis on the patio
I thought this title would get your attention. I could have also use the word, "sex."
Weather permitting, I like to sit outside, in the shade, in the morning and late afternoon/ evening. I am thinking that I acquired this taste when I lived in Washington. I realize that this is not something that other family members do.
My sister is an avid reader, but sitting outside to read is not something she does. Her husband has a farm/home-on-the-range background and may view the out of doors as a work space. Other family members are outside to barbecue, but not to sit an enjoy the environment.
When I say, "weather permitting," I mean that I could be out in the heat if a fan makes it more comfortable. I can sit there with the mosquitoes buzzing, if my skin is drenched in repellent. This summer, I went to a camping supply place a bought a mosquito netting drape for a cot. I rearranged it around a patio chair and there I sat. My little cocoon was working well until the cat snuck in and almost brought it all down when he tried to escape and could not find the opening. Yes, I was inside with the cat.
However, there comes a time when the fan does not help, and the bugs begin to wear their protective masks. Then it is time to go inside.
I drive around town and see people sitting outside because they do not have A/C. There is a house down the street with three plastic chairs and an old sofa on the porch. There are people that sit outside amidst a clutter of things, scrap lumber, old doors, etc. Others sit outside in orderly settings, yards or porches. I cannot sit in a cluttered setting. As I work on projects around the house, I can easily allow clutter to sneak onto the small patio area. The solution was to enlarge the patio.
The original space was approximate 9 ft X 11 ft. when I added a storage shed to the space I lost some space. I added the storage units that I brought from Washington and I lost more space. I am now adding an unknown amount of sq. ft. The space will allow me to sit under the ebony tree that drops leaves and pods or to sit under an umbrella or in the open. Others in my family have told me that they would cut the tree without a second thought. When I weigh the tree dropping vs. the shade it provides all day, the tree stays. The tree had been on the property almost from day one, in 1925.
Here are some pix of the work in progress. I hope to finish the project before the end of the week.
Weather permitting, I like to sit outside, in the shade, in the morning and late afternoon/ evening. I am thinking that I acquired this taste when I lived in Washington. I realize that this is not something that other family members do.
My sister is an avid reader, but sitting outside to read is not something she does. Her husband has a farm/home-on-the-range background and may view the out of doors as a work space. Other family members are outside to barbecue, but not to sit an enjoy the environment.
When I say, "weather permitting," I mean that I could be out in the heat if a fan makes it more comfortable. I can sit there with the mosquitoes buzzing, if my skin is drenched in repellent. This summer, I went to a camping supply place a bought a mosquito netting drape for a cot. I rearranged it around a patio chair and there I sat. My little cocoon was working well until the cat snuck in and almost brought it all down when he tried to escape and could not find the opening. Yes, I was inside with the cat.
However, there comes a time when the fan does not help, and the bugs begin to wear their protective masks. Then it is time to go inside.
I drive around town and see people sitting outside because they do not have A/C. There is a house down the street with three plastic chairs and an old sofa on the porch. There are people that sit outside amidst a clutter of things, scrap lumber, old doors, etc. Others sit outside in orderly settings, yards or porches. I cannot sit in a cluttered setting. As I work on projects around the house, I can easily allow clutter to sneak onto the small patio area. The solution was to enlarge the patio.
The original space was approximate 9 ft X 11 ft. when I added a storage shed to the space I lost some space. I added the storage units that I brought from Washington and I lost more space. I am now adding an unknown amount of sq. ft. The space will allow me to sit under the ebony tree that drops leaves and pods or to sit under an umbrella or in the open. Others in my family have told me that they would cut the tree without a second thought. When I weigh the tree dropping vs. the shade it provides all day, the tree stays. The tree had been on the property almost from day one, in 1925.
Here are some pix of the work in progress. I hope to finish the project before the end of the week.
The supports have yet to be painted. The items on the left are new storage.
The object at the forefront of the picture is the end-point. I think I am doubling the original space. This will allow me open space or under the tree.
The Tree. When you consider the heat of summer, having a shady spot all day long is not to be taken lightly. Yes, all of those pods and seed have to go somewhere, but it is a small price to pay.
The outside of the patio area is planted. I was surprised to see that the iris bulbs and the geranium that I brought from WA have survived. The pots have geranium, bougainvillea, and hibiscus. The green and white are "mother-in-law-tongue" plants.
The iron structure was formerly a porch railing. When I arrived from WA, my brother-in-law told me someone had given this to him, but that he did not have any plans for it. If I could use it, he would let me have it. It took me a couple of weeks to find this use for it.
I finally got some color on the property. With regular watering some old Morning Glory seeds and some seeds I brought from WA showed their color. The bougainvillea blooms are on a large plant by the back fence.
Until next time.
Joe
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Follow-up to Not a Good Day
I wonder if this "not-so-good-day" was connected to the day that followed.
The next day, my aunt was lethargic and could barely keep her eyes open. At breakfast hand to mouth was not easy. Her grip on the fork was weak, fork dangling. After breakfast, she went to her recliner as usual and napped. She was in deep nap state at lunch and I decided to let her sleep. After consulting with my sister (retired nurse), I woke her and found her almost back to her normal state.
My sister enlightened me and told me that what I had witnessed was a T.I.A. (Transient Ishchemic Attack). This is commonly referred to as a "mini-stroke." My sister told me that she has had them before. These states are short-lived and my aunt exhibited all the symptoms mentioned on the Mayo Clinic website. These TIA are precursors to a major stroke, but do not predict when one will occur.
I will be on the look-out for a repeat of these two days. Is there a connection?
On a related medical issue, I have been in a state of stress, fearing another fall. To be more correct, it is not the fall that I fear, it is the inability to pick her up that bothers me. Today we received the mechanical lift device that I had requested, the Hoyer Lift. With this device, I can easily pick her up from the floor and cary her to the chair of the bed. I am sure that she will not appreciate dangling as she will, but I will be smiling through the process.
Later.
Joe
The next day, my aunt was lethargic and could barely keep her eyes open. At breakfast hand to mouth was not easy. Her grip on the fork was weak, fork dangling. After breakfast, she went to her recliner as usual and napped. She was in deep nap state at lunch and I decided to let her sleep. After consulting with my sister (retired nurse), I woke her and found her almost back to her normal state.
My sister enlightened me and told me that what I had witnessed was a T.I.A. (Transient Ishchemic Attack). This is commonly referred to as a "mini-stroke." My sister told me that she has had them before. These states are short-lived and my aunt exhibited all the symptoms mentioned on the Mayo Clinic website. These TIA are precursors to a major stroke, but do not predict when one will occur.
I will be on the look-out for a repeat of these two days. Is there a connection?
On a related medical issue, I have been in a state of stress, fearing another fall. To be more correct, it is not the fall that I fear, it is the inability to pick her up that bothers me. Today we received the mechanical lift device that I had requested, the Hoyer Lift. With this device, I can easily pick her up from the floor and cary her to the chair of the bed. I am sure that she will not appreciate dangling as she will, but I will be smiling through the process.
Later.
Joe
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Not a good day!
Although she did not fall, and has not fallen all week, today was not a good day for my aunt. Her mind was otherwise occupied. Also today, she seems to be having more trouble getting up from a chair and having more trouble walking.
I decided to keep the bed rails up all week, keeping her "locked in." She may have forgotten how she got out years ago. (She would scoot to the end of the bedrails and get out of bed.) Now she wakes in bed and will probably be wet. But, this is better than wet and on the floor.
Before she was awake, I heard her talking in her sleep. This was unusual, because I don't remember hearing her before. The conversation was not in a jumble, but coherent sentences. Around 10 a.m. she was telling about a dream she had. She says that she rarely remembers dreams. Later in the morning when she was alseep in the recliner, she was talking again.
From her naps she wakes almost startled and is quick to get up. As soon as I hear her I go to her room and ask where she is going. The first time she said that she heard my mother returning. She could not tell me where o with whom this was happening. The second time, she got up in a hurry to make the bread. This was a dream or something else. Later in the day she asked if there were cokes for my mother. The final comment was around 4 p.m. when she came out of the bathroom and asked me if my mother was asleep.
Today we also had a "change-your-clothes" marathon. There are three items to take off and put on, the underpants, the slip, and the robe. Because her modesty and sense of decency prohibit it, I cannot help her directly. I stand outside the bathroom door and try to direct her. I say, "Take this off and put that on. Tell me when you are done." After a while she says that she is ready. The dirty slip is half way off and the clean one is on. And so it goes with the other items. The care providers, both women, do this task for her, when they are here.
At the end of the day, her brain was still working randomly. She talked about a bag of photos, asked about her bank account, and referred to my mother again, in the present. I can only hope that tomorrow will be a better day.
Joe
I decided to keep the bed rails up all week, keeping her "locked in." She may have forgotten how she got out years ago. (She would scoot to the end of the bedrails and get out of bed.) Now she wakes in bed and will probably be wet. But, this is better than wet and on the floor.
Before she was awake, I heard her talking in her sleep. This was unusual, because I don't remember hearing her before. The conversation was not in a jumble, but coherent sentences. Around 10 a.m. she was telling about a dream she had. She says that she rarely remembers dreams. Later in the morning when she was alseep in the recliner, she was talking again.
From her naps she wakes almost startled and is quick to get up. As soon as I hear her I go to her room and ask where she is going. The first time she said that she heard my mother returning. She could not tell me where o with whom this was happening. The second time, she got up in a hurry to make the bread. This was a dream or something else. Later in the day she asked if there were cokes for my mother. The final comment was around 4 p.m. when she came out of the bathroom and asked me if my mother was asleep.
Today we also had a "change-your-clothes" marathon. There are three items to take off and put on, the underpants, the slip, and the robe. Because her modesty and sense of decency prohibit it, I cannot help her directly. I stand outside the bathroom door and try to direct her. I say, "Take this off and put that on. Tell me when you are done." After a while she says that she is ready. The dirty slip is half way off and the clean one is on. And so it goes with the other items. The care providers, both women, do this task for her, when they are here.
At the end of the day, her brain was still working randomly. She talked about a bag of photos, asked about her bank account, and referred to my mother again, in the present. I can only hope that tomorrow will be a better day.
Joe
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Good Days - Bad Days: To Be or Not To Be
Bad days
Wednesday was not a good "Tia Day." She was on the floor when I went to check on her this morning. She was disoriented and did not know that she was on the floor. At breakfast, the coffee cup, her usual, seemed to be to heavy for her and she spilled some on herself, but did not seem to notice. I sequestered her in her room because workers were laying new floor to the hall outside her room. She was also told that the bathroom was off limits because there was work there too. I told her that she needed to use the bedside commode. She sees the bedside commode as something for use at night, or during the day. When I went to "unsequester" her, I found her on the floor by the bed. She was grabbing for a rail and missed. Why does she fall?
There are elements of dementia for sure. However, there are elements of stubbornness. A couple of times a week, in the morning, I find her walker against the door as if to block entry. Of course she cannot do that. But, if the walker is by the door, this means that she had to traverse across the room without the walker with only a night-light to show her the way. This afternoon, the walker again was not by her side or near by when I found her. She likes to park the walker outside the bathroom and navigate without. I yell out, "Don't forget the walker." She will grab it with one hand and drag it in behind her. Questions about not using the walker properly result with her response of, "I was just going to..." and "Yes, but ...."
This morning I realized that I cannot pick her up by myself. In all the prior falls, I could tell her to grab my arm and to anchor her legs to my foot. It was a struggle but up she went. Today, She could not hold on and when she begins to pray, "Oh, my God I am going to fall." She is on the floor again. This afternoon, one of the floor workers helped me get her up. With two people, it is an easy task. At 7 p.m this evening she did not know she had fallen. She did not know that she had lunch and was asking for it. She was holding her coffee cup at 5:30 p.m. and asked if she should put on the coffee. Reacting to the workers in the house, she said, "When your mother gets here, she will be surprised by all the changes." I responded with, "If she shows up, I will be surprised and out door." It did not register. These "bad days" alternate with good ones.
Good days
Although she awoke on the floor yesterday, again, it was a good day. Tia was alert and able to carry on a conversation. She did a good job with her bathroom activities. She was aware of the time. Some days she will say that she does not know what time it is and does not check the clock in her room. Last night she had dinner and went to her room. She came back out saying it was too early for bed, and stated the time. She was going to stay up a bit longer. At bedtime, I told her that I would be raising the bed rails. She said okay. (We have experienced bed rails before without success. We quit using them because she would "escape" by making her way to the foot of the bed.) However, this morning all was good. She was in bed and not on the floor.
To Be or Not to Be
The psychologist in me wants to delve into her mind and show her a better way. I would like to teach her survival skills at her age. What is it like to "be" and "not be?" Observing her and wondering how she experiences life, I question mine. If I fall asleep watching TV some afternoon, how do I know that I fell asleep? I can look at the clock. I would have to remember what I was watching that I am not watching now. I would be aware of the body sensations that connect with sleep. All of these things require awareness and cognition.
Tia will wake from a nap, not aware of the passing of time or that she was even asleep. What happens inside her mind when I confront her with reality? She may be adamant that she has not had lunch and is asking to eat. I correct her and show her the unwashed dishes and give her a detailed account of the meal she had 20 minutes ago. Sometimes she says nothing and other times she will say, "If you say so." But what is happening on the neuron superhighway? Did her thought of not having had lunch just go off a mental cliff, or does the thought ruminate for a while? In grad school a professor once asked us to think about your thinking. I can't ask her to do that.
Before her mental abilities deteriorated, my aunt led her life without any questions. Her ways, customs, and beliefs existed. So ingrained were these ways, that in her current mental state, these surface instinctively. This is her "being." When I am trying to help her get up off the floor, or when I am lifting her legs onto the bed, or when I am rubbing ointment on her knees, her primary concern is to keep her skirt down. I will tell her to not worry about the skirt when she is being trampled by elephants, and pull her hand away, but instinctively, her hand goes back to the skirt hem. This reaction occurs both on her good and bad days. A similar explanation could be offered for her objection to using the bedside commode only at night. It does not make sense; it just is.
I have come to accept my limitations in trying to help Tia. If she falls and there is no help readily available to get her up, I will try to make her comfortable and wait. If she is having a bad day, I am unable to make it good. When there was more hope for reason, her old, ingrain ways were unchangable They are impossible to change now.
It is what it is.
Joe V
Wednesday was not a good "Tia Day." She was on the floor when I went to check on her this morning. She was disoriented and did not know that she was on the floor. At breakfast, the coffee cup, her usual, seemed to be to heavy for her and she spilled some on herself, but did not seem to notice. I sequestered her in her room because workers were laying new floor to the hall outside her room. She was also told that the bathroom was off limits because there was work there too. I told her that she needed to use the bedside commode. She sees the bedside commode as something for use at night, or during the day. When I went to "unsequester" her, I found her on the floor by the bed. She was grabbing for a rail and missed. Why does she fall?
There are elements of dementia for sure. However, there are elements of stubbornness. A couple of times a week, in the morning, I find her walker against the door as if to block entry. Of course she cannot do that. But, if the walker is by the door, this means that she had to traverse across the room without the walker with only a night-light to show her the way. This afternoon, the walker again was not by her side or near by when I found her. She likes to park the walker outside the bathroom and navigate without. I yell out, "Don't forget the walker." She will grab it with one hand and drag it in behind her. Questions about not using the walker properly result with her response of, "I was just going to..." and "Yes, but ...."
This morning I realized that I cannot pick her up by myself. In all the prior falls, I could tell her to grab my arm and to anchor her legs to my foot. It was a struggle but up she went. Today, She could not hold on and when she begins to pray, "Oh, my God I am going to fall." She is on the floor again. This afternoon, one of the floor workers helped me get her up. With two people, it is an easy task. At 7 p.m this evening she did not know she had fallen. She did not know that she had lunch and was asking for it. She was holding her coffee cup at 5:30 p.m. and asked if she should put on the coffee. Reacting to the workers in the house, she said, "When your mother gets here, she will be surprised by all the changes." I responded with, "If she shows up, I will be surprised and out door." It did not register. These "bad days" alternate with good ones.
Good days
Although she awoke on the floor yesterday, again, it was a good day. Tia was alert and able to carry on a conversation. She did a good job with her bathroom activities. She was aware of the time. Some days she will say that she does not know what time it is and does not check the clock in her room. Last night she had dinner and went to her room. She came back out saying it was too early for bed, and stated the time. She was going to stay up a bit longer. At bedtime, I told her that I would be raising the bed rails. She said okay. (We have experienced bed rails before without success. We quit using them because she would "escape" by making her way to the foot of the bed.) However, this morning all was good. She was in bed and not on the floor.
To Be or Not to Be
The psychologist in me wants to delve into her mind and show her a better way. I would like to teach her survival skills at her age. What is it like to "be" and "not be?" Observing her and wondering how she experiences life, I question mine. If I fall asleep watching TV some afternoon, how do I know that I fell asleep? I can look at the clock. I would have to remember what I was watching that I am not watching now. I would be aware of the body sensations that connect with sleep. All of these things require awareness and cognition.
Tia will wake from a nap, not aware of the passing of time or that she was even asleep. What happens inside her mind when I confront her with reality? She may be adamant that she has not had lunch and is asking to eat. I correct her and show her the unwashed dishes and give her a detailed account of the meal she had 20 minutes ago. Sometimes she says nothing and other times she will say, "If you say so." But what is happening on the neuron superhighway? Did her thought of not having had lunch just go off a mental cliff, or does the thought ruminate for a while? In grad school a professor once asked us to think about your thinking. I can't ask her to do that.
Before her mental abilities deteriorated, my aunt led her life without any questions. Her ways, customs, and beliefs existed. So ingrained were these ways, that in her current mental state, these surface instinctively. This is her "being." When I am trying to help her get up off the floor, or when I am lifting her legs onto the bed, or when I am rubbing ointment on her knees, her primary concern is to keep her skirt down. I will tell her to not worry about the skirt when she is being trampled by elephants, and pull her hand away, but instinctively, her hand goes back to the skirt hem. This reaction occurs both on her good and bad days. A similar explanation could be offered for her objection to using the bedside commode only at night. It does not make sense; it just is.
I have come to accept my limitations in trying to help Tia. If she falls and there is no help readily available to get her up, I will try to make her comfortable and wait. If she is having a bad day, I am unable to make it good. When there was more hope for reason, her old, ingrain ways were unchangable They are impossible to change now.
It is what it is.
Joe V
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Weslaco - Hometown
Most of those living outside the Lower Rio Grande Valley do not know Weslaco. They have a hard time understanding the word, as well as writing it. They seem to hear "West -" something or other. Most in Texas know the Rio Grande Valley.
Weslaco was founded in 1919. The name comes from the title holder of the land, the W.E. Stuart Land Company. The 2000 census listed 26, 900 residents. It is estimated that the new numeber will be around 34, 000.
I spoke before of the segregation that was in place, but unkown to me. Here is an excerpt from the University of Texas ______:
"...A municipal ordinance of 1921 provided that the land north of the railroad tracks be designated for industry and Hispanic residences and businesses. The area to the south of the tracks was reserved for Anglo residences and businesses. This segregation was a consequence of the farm culture that had introduced the railroad. Weslaco developed as two cities. "El pueblo americano," as the Anglo side of town was called, consisted of well-built frame houses; it had paved streets and enclosed sewers. The Mexican side featured corrugated tin shacks, unpaved roads, and outhouses. Mexican women were supposed to shop on the Anglo side of town early on Saturdays only, and be back in "Mexican Town" by sunset. Streets north of the tracks had Spanish names, business was conducted in Spanish, and schools were established for Mexican children. In "American Town," streets were named for northern states...."
The Valley
The towns of the Rio Grande Valley were established along US 83. Between McAllen and Harlingen, Weslaco is approximately in the middle.
When I moved to Washington's Yakima Valley, I thought I was living in a parallel universe. Although the Rio Grande Valley is not really a valley, the set up is the same - towns a few miles apart, along a main highway, in a rural agricultural area. Weslaco is about 4 miles from Donna to the west and Mercedes to the east. Alamo is 4 miles east of Donna and La Feria is 5 miles east of Mercedes, and so on. In Washington I was surprised to hear phrases familiar to my ears, "Valley Ready Mix, Largest Ford Dealer in the Valley, stop by and see us in the lower Valley."
Where it all began, The Cortez Hotel
The hotel is located at the intersection of Business Hwy 83 and Texas Blvd, Weslaco's main street. I heard that the sale of lots happened from a wagon at this intersection. Although I don't think it looked like this, the hotel housed people from the north looking for land deals.
The Cortez fell on hard times and stopped being a hotel. I remember a time when I could see windows broken and old curtains blowing in the breeze. It was later rennovated from top to bottom. The Cortez is now an event center and office complex. The bottom level has a restaurant, a formal-wear rental, and other businesses. The courtyard and the the lobby were the site of my last high school reunion. Yes, there is a bar.
Texas Blvd
The picture on the left was taken early Saturday, so the traffic is light. The one one the right is listed as a 1925 photo, but I think it was later. I think the smaller,older one may have been in 1925.
Old City Hall
Built in 1928, it used to house all of the city offices as well as the fire station. Now all of the city offices have moved to a much larger building. The EMS and Fire Station #2 remain. I could not find out who was depicted on the wall. They resembe the images of Columbus and Cortez.
Weslaco Hero
In this iconic image of the raising of the flag at Iwo Jima, one of the six men was from Weslaco. He was Harlon Block, the soldier holding the base of the flag, crouching. For a time he was buried in Weslaco and then his remains were relocated to the Iwo Jima Monument in Harlingen, Texas.
The rest of the story is that Harlon Block was not the only soldier from Weslaco in WWII. He and 12 of his high school classmates enlisted together. They were given an early graduation ceremony so that they couild join themilitray ranks. Harlon was not the only one to die during the war.
The Iwo Jima Memorial in Washington D.C. is not the original. To cast that bronze statue, there needed to be a "cast" made. The sculptor decided to donate the "original" to the Marine Military Academy in Harlingen, Texas. The MMA is a military school for young men under 18 years of age. On a saturday you see groups of boys dressed in Marine "green," at the mall or the movies.
Water Tower
The water tower is a landmark. It is unique in that it is a concrete structure and does not look like any other in the Valley. The building of the water tower was begun in 1938 as one of the WPA projects. It was completed in 1941. In the Valley the tower also has a reputation connected to football. When the local team wins, the light on the tower are lit. When the radio announcer says, "There will be no lights on the tower tonight," I know our team lost.
At the base of the tower is a community theater in the round. This was the original water reservoir before the tower was built.
Football
What can I say about football in Texas? When I was in Washington, it was a shock for me to see "one-sided" football stadiums. There were no bleachers for the visiting team. I know that the area towns in Washington were smaller then those around here, but the smallest towns here have bleachers for the visitors.
In Texas, one travels to out of town games and support the team, whether it is a winning season or not. I remember going to a Prosser Mustang (WA) out-of-town game and seeing very few Prosser fans there. As small as that one-sided stadium was, the bleachers were not full. Also there was no half-time band performance. This I considered the greatest sin.
The water tower is a landmark. It is unique in that it is a concrete structure and does not look like any other in the Valley. The building of the water tower was begun in 1938 as one of the WPA projects. It was completed in 1941. In the Valley the tower also has a reputation connected to football. When the local team wins, the light on the tower are lit. When the radio announcer says, "There will be no lights on the tower tonight," I know our team lost.
At the base of the tower is a community theater in the round. This was the original water reservoir before the tower was built.
What can I say about football in Texas? When I was in Washington, it was a shock for me to see "one-sided" football stadiums. There were no bleachers for the visiting team. I know that the area towns in Washington were smaller then those around here, but the smallest towns here have bleachers for the visitors.
In Texas, one travels to out of town games and support the team, whether it is a winning season or not. I remember going to a Prosser Mustang (WA) out-of-town game and seeing very few Prosser fans there. As small as that one-sided stadium was, the bleachers were not full. Also there was no half-time band performance. This I considered the greatest sin.
This is the recently renovated football stadium. I read that total capacity was around 15000, home and visitor sides. Weslaco now has two high schools and both schools use this stadium.
Although the giant billboard at the stadium features the football teams (both sides), one of the good things that the school does is to feature the honor graduates on the billboard at the end of the school year.
Weslaco High School
The gym is the only remnants of the old high school. About four years ago, the building was gutted and converted into a missle school. This is the only building that I could identify from the past.
Junior High
The Junior High building, across from the high school, was also remodeled but the exterior was preserved. I was here for 7th and 8th grades.
TEXSUN
If you have ever eaten a grapefruit, especially Ruby Reds, or had grapefruit juice, you have probably had fruit processed by the Texsun company. Texsun was billed as the "largest grapefruit juice canning plant in the world." It was a major economic force in the 20' and 30's. There some great images on the company, processing, and Weslaco at the following website:
http://books.google.com/books?id=3EPvwdz_6k0C&pg=PA93&lpg=PA93&dq=texsun+in+weslaco+texas&source=bl&ots=RxDWbRRYDS&sig=BC2xsJoaQP7k43f0U0YkmBUnuMQ&hl=en&ei=aY6PTOjJKoKBlAfGhPy4DQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=6&ved=0CDEQ6AEwBQ#v=onepage&q=texsun%20in%20weslaco%20texas&f=false
The Texsun building exterior is still in Weslaco, but has been remodeled and is now part of the South Texas College's Mid-Valley Campus.
Wells of Weslaco
This store has been in Weslaco as long as I can remember. However, I have never been inside. The sign has changed little. I and others always considered this store to be expensive, high class, and where Anglos shopped. Maybe I will walk in there, now that I am retired and report back to this site.
The Keno Cafe
If you live in the Mid-Valley, you know that this is where you come to get a "quickie." Although the Keno's interior has seen changes, the exterior remains unchanged.
The "quickie" was a plate lunch - chicken fried steak, some salad, fries, and a dinner roll. It was something that was served quickly. Since there was little money for such luxuries as eating out, we would go to the Keno and order a roll and a glass of water.
http://books.google.com/books?id=3EPvwdz_6k0C&pg=PA93&lpg=PA93&dq=texsun+in+weslaco+texas&source=bl&ots=RxDWbRRYDS&sig=BC2xsJoaQP7k43f0U0YkmBUnuMQ&hl=en&ei=aY6PTOjJKoKBlAfGhPy4DQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=6&ved=0CDEQ6AEwBQ#v=onepage&q=texsun%20in%20weslaco%20texas&f=false
The Texsun building exterior is still in Weslaco, but has been remodeled and is now part of the South Texas College's Mid-Valley Campus.
Wells of Weslaco
This store has been in Weslaco as long as I can remember. However, I have never been inside. The sign has changed little. I and others always considered this store to be expensive, high class, and where Anglos shopped. Maybe I will walk in there, now that I am retired and report back to this site.
The Keno Cafe
If you live in the Mid-Valley, you know that this is where you come to get a "quickie." Although the Keno's interior has seen changes, the exterior remains unchanged.
The "quickie" was a plate lunch - chicken fried steak, some salad, fries, and a dinner roll. It was something that was served quickly. Since there was little money for such luxuries as eating out, we would go to the Keno and order a roll and a glass of water.
As I think of other things to show you about Weslaco, I will take some pictures and post them ASAP.
Joe V
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