Look What You Did Jamey–Week of 2/15-2/22

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Greetings, HOTties! Welcome to your weekly installment of  Jamey’s health updates. He’s been eating like a horse since our “special delivery” on Thursday. The SCAWESOME people at TD bank who used to work with Jamey dropped off a HUGE assortment of foodstuffs from a club store on Thursday, so everything came in big packages(unlike our little Cranstoun family)—-FULL SIZE candy bars(Caeley’s response to seeing the bars was, “30 full size candy bars?!?! I can die happy now.”), Pringles, Sun Chips, breakfast bars, a huge tray of ziti made by one of his co-worker’s chef -husband, chicken with mushrooms(my response to seeing the mushrooms was “FINALLY!!” Neither Caeley nor Jamey like mushrooms, so I never put them in anything. I think my dinner Thursday night consisted of mostly mushrooms)–that’s just a portion of what they dropped off!!!!! I’m not sure that Jamey’s actually been stomach hungry, but he has definitely been “eye” hungry. He’s like a kid in some type of store where there’s so much deliciousness to choose from so he just eats everything in sight. HUGE thanks go out to the TD employees, by the way. You know who you are but I don’t think you’ll ever know how much we appreciate how much you’ve done for us over the last seven years.

Other than probably gaining 10 lbs in one day, Jamey had his temporary moments of weird walking this week. I’m not sure he’d receive any funding from the Ministry of Silly Walks or anything, but his walking is odd, nonetheless. His confabulation–click here if you want to read more about it has been increasing somewhat. He often blames his lack of energy with recently having gone out somewhere draining–like camping or hiking or the park. The backstories for these false memories are becoming more elaborate and he’s also becoming more defensive about them. I’m learning to simply let him believe his stories since, to him, they’re real. Sometimes his confabs are somewhat understandable; for example, today I found his dinner plate(with dinner still on it) sitting on top of the refrigerator. When I asked him why it was up there, he said, “Because you told me to throw all my food out, but I hid it here instead since I didn’t want to waste it.” Anyone who knows me knows how cheap I am–there’s no way I would tell him to throw out perfectly good food, however, he may have been mixing up a previous conversation where I told him to throw out plastic wrap or a napkin or something. Then there are some confabs that are simply bizarre; almost like he’s confusing a weird dream with reality. For example, he was convinced that we were at the park the other day and that a nurse told him to lose weight, but that his blood pressure was good. Apparently while we were there, we were warned about there being alligators at the park but we were assured they would not harm all the chickens that were also at the park. The weird thing is, a lot of his odd confabs involve birds of some sort, but usually chickens or ducks.

Anyone want to take a stab at interpreting what that weird confab might symbolize?

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9 Comments

  1. Hey Kim! It’s Greg Jones.
    I’m following and reading every step of the way.
    Let us know if you guys need anything.

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  2. I keep trying to leave comments after reading but wordpress was being crappy.
    Let us know if you need anything!
    G

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    1. Thanks, Greg. Caeley and I were just talking about you Friday night. We had to run to PetValu after getting pizza at Joe’s and said,
      Oh man–we should’ve gotten pizza at
      Naples to see Greg! Does Margot go to your shows?

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    1. I’m going to guess it did not come up as something that was frequently googled.

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  3. I’ve have feared for some time now, decades in fact, that the shameful Chicken Heart Incident of ’74 near E. Winthrop, ME (henceforth referred to as CHI74; or maybe not, I may not mention it again. I’m just rambling here and have no intention of editing.) Anyway, the aforementioned atrocity committed on a young (6 YO) impressionable and quite gullible Jamey may have damaged his delicate gray matter in an odd way. Hence, his fixation with chickens. He has had an ongoing love/hate relationship with these fowl. He took one to the homecoming dance. The night didn’t end well. His lack of impulse control may only now be bringing this to light.

    Then again maybe he is channeling something supernatural, like that character in the bad John Travolta movie (wait, bad movie/John Travolta, isn’t that redundant? Maybe not, Pulp Fiction was quite excellent. I can’t believe it didn’t win the Oscar that year. And beaten by Forest Gump no less, yet another example of the Academy’s lack of credibility. Anyway, I digress). A sad incident occurred here a couple of weeks ago. One of our beloved chickens, Rockie, broke her leg and passed away. Well, “passed”. As the story is being told here, “Daddy died her”. Well actually it was Mommy, but I’ll play the heavy. This also led to some toddler drama last week after Daddy broke Teddy’s leg. “Is Daddy going to die Teddy?”, “Are we going to eat him?” Fortunately it was only a bad sprain and we didn’t need to do either. Anyway, if Jamey is rambling on about a delicious pot pie he never actually ate, maybe he is channeling Rockie from beyond the grave. Or dinner table as the case may be.

    I wonder what Sigmund Fraud would say about Jamey’s confabulations. That dog could confab s***f better than anyone!

    Those are my couple of thoughts. See I didn’t use CHI74 again. Oh, wait. I just did.

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    1. Chicken heart!!!!! Why didn’t I ever think of that as the source of Jamey’s fowl fixations? I’ll peck around tomorrow and see if he remembers good ol’ CHI74. He’s been cooped up lately because of the weather, so it may do his brain some good to scratch the ground for some old memories. Hopefully he’ll be in a good mood–when he’s grumpy, he can yell as loud as a foghorn; Caeley and I walk around here on eggshells!

      Sounds like Landi’s on a chicken diet–she sees a chicken, she die(s)t.

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      1. “Sounds like Landi’s on a chicken diet–she sees a chicken, she die(s)t.” – I’m embarrassed to say I LOL’d.
        “Caeley and I walk around here on eggshells!” – We have a minefield of MegaBlocks and Legos; Ouchie!
        I’ve never known Jamey (or anyone else for that matter) to stay grumpy when someone tosses a pack of Fig Newton’s his way.
        Sorry I didn’t use a lot of bad chicken references in this post; You kinda used them all already.

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  4. I’ve have feared for some time now, decades in fact, that the shameful Chicken Heart Incident of ’74 near E. Winthrop, ME (henceforth referred to as CHI74; or maybe not, I may not mention it again. I’m just rambling here and have no intention of editing.) Anyway, the aforementioned atrocity committed on a young (6 YO) impressionable and quite gullible Jamey may have damaged his delicate gray matter in an odd way. Hence, his fixation with chickens. He has had an ongoing love/hate relationship with these fowl. He took one to the homecoming dance. The night didn’t end well. His lack of impulse control may only now be bringing this to light.

    Then again maybe he is channeling something supernatural, like that character with the tumor in the bad John Travolta movie (wait, bad movie/John Travolta, isn’t that redundant? Maybe not, Pulp Fiction was quite excellent. I can’t believe it didn’t win the Oscar that year. And beaten by Forest Gump no less, yet another example of the Academy’s lack of credibility. Anyway, I digress). A sad incident occurred here a couple of weeks ago. One of our beloved chickens, Rockie, broke her leg and passed away. Well, “passed”. As the story is being told here, “Daddy died her”. Well actually it was Mommy, but I’ll play the heavy. This also led to some toddler drama last week after Daddy broke Teddy’s leg. “Is Daddy going to die Teddy?”, “Are we going to eat him?” Fortunately it was only a bad sprain and we didn’t need to do either. Anyway, if Jamey is rambling on about a delicious pot pie he never actually ate, maybe he is channeling Rockie from beyond the grave. Or dinner table as the case may be.

    I wonder what Sigmund Fraud would say about Jamey’s confabulations. That dog could confab s***f better than anyone.

    Those are my couple of thoughts. See I didn’t use CHI74 again. Oh, wait. I just did.

    -Uncle Steve

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