Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

My daughter, Vicki, took me to see Dr. Quaker, today. She was worried about my health and I agreed to go so she would stop worrying. She thinks I’m “having trouble” in my old age. After some tests that a 4 year old could pass and an interview, Dr. Quaker thinks I’m developing dementia. I told him, “Look, Dr. Quacker, I know I’m 67 years old but I’m not stupid, insane, or retarded.” Neither Vicki nor Quacker took that well. I should point out that I’m very aware that the doctor’s name is “Quaker,” just in case someone wants to pick this up and use it to say I’m losing my mind.

While he agrees that I seem “cogent at the moment,” he still wants me to do something to “keep my mind sharp.” I asked him what he had in mind and he gave me some options. This is the option I chose. I’m supposed to keep a diary and put things down that happened in my day. So here it is. Yay.

Dear Diary,

Vicki came over and made me breakfast this morning. I told her that I’m fully capable but she insisted on doing something nice for me after yesterday. She made pancakes with eggs, bacon, raspberries and some raspberry syrup. She arranged the eggs and bacon on the pancakes to make a face. The eggs are the eyes, the bacon is the mouth, and she puts a raspberry in the center as a nose. I told her, “You do realize that with the raspberry syrup and this arrangement, it’s like I’m eating someone’s face, right?” She laughed and said she just wanted to make me happy. The “eyes” were sunny side up and runny, just like I like them but the raspberries made it a bit sweet.

Her making breakfast was also the lead in to talking about the appointment yesterday, so it wasn’t without an agenda. She’s worried about my workshop now. She thinks it’s too dangerous for me to use my tools anymore. I told her that if she really cared about me then my tools will keep my mind sharp. One reflects the other. She begrudgingly agreed. Well, I’m just going to leave it at that. I did the thing for today.

Dear Diary,

Vicki came over with her son, Dunkan, and asked how I was doing this morning and if I remembered to write in my journal. I said yes and she wanted to read it to make sure I did it. I pointed out that this is supposed to be a diary and that usually means she’s not supposed to read it, personal thoughts and whatnot. She said I could just turn the pages, so she could see. She didn’t need to actually read it. I said fine if it isn’t going to be like this every day. I don’t like being treated like a child. She agreed and was pleased with my writing. I’m going to be able to just write without her poking her nose in every day. So at least there is that.

Duncan wanted to know if we could build something with me. Vicki told him that I shouldn’t really be using my tools. I reminded her of our talk yesterday and she said not to use anything too sharp. Duncan wanted to build a spice rack or something. Vicki was teaching him to cook and he wanted to make one with me. I told him that I used to make furniture but we could throw something together. The problem is, Vicki didn’t want me to use the power saw because it was “too dangerous.” While I was showing Duncan how to use a hacksaw, I slipped and cut my finger. I told Vicki that I hadn’t used the hacksaw for a while and it just got away from me but that didn’t help matters either. She wanted to help me with the cut but I told her I could do it. She and Duncan left shortly after.

Dear Diary,

Vicki came by today and wanted to “talk to me about something.” That phrase is never a good sign. She wants to take my tools now. She said, if I can’t use them safely, I shouldn’t have ‘em. She wants me to do puzzles and something she called Saint Dokoo or something. I told her she can’t have ‘em and if all she’s going to do is come over here and take my stuff, she can just stay at her house. She said she just wanted to make sure I was safe. I told her I wasn’t going to be safe in a bubble but she said she wasn’t going to just watch me injure myself. She left shortly after.

Dear Diary,

I miss Vicki coming over. She hasn’t been here in a bit and I kind of miss her “face breakfast”. I know I said they were weird but they tasted good anyway and I liked her company. I tried to make it but I’ve never been much of a cook. I’m pretty sure there were shells in the batter. I also burned my hand on accident when I was making the mouth. I don’t know how to make syrup so I just ate the raspberries. They were the best part of the breakfast, just a bit sweet though. I will probably just get some frozen meals to throw in the oven.

Dear Diary,

I had another appointment with Dr. Cooker today. I told her that Vicki hadn’t been by because of a disagreement we had. She wanted to know how the argument made me feel. What kind of question is that? How is an argument supposed to make anyone feel? She said that my daughter just wants to make sure I’m safe. I told her that my daughter wants my things and that’s why she came over. I did say that I was missing Vicki though. Cooker didn’t agree. She apparently doesn’t think I miss Vicki at all. Cooker wants to take my driver’s license because she says that I’m showing “signs of decline”. Apparently, women just want to keep taking my stuff. She did call Vicki to take me home though, so that was nice. Vicki didn’t seem very happy on the way home. We didn’t really talk. When we got home, I said, “Hey. You know. I really miss eating your face. Maybe you could come by and make one for me?” She laughed and said that she would.

Dear Diary,

The cook came over today. I didn’t realize that cooks come to your house. She was really nice though. She cooked right in my house too. I hadn’t realized you could get them to do that but there you go. She made a face on a plate. It was really good. I asked where her restaurant was. She looked like she needed to think a bit but she said that it’s right next door. I asked her if she could maybe make some of these faces and I could just warm them up in the oven. I’m not a very good cook. Never have been. She said it would be fine but that she wanted to check something in the basement first. I didn’t realize I had a basement. We went down there and you wouldn’t believe that there were so many utensils down there that I could probably make a bunch of meals. She asked if she could take some of them since I didn’t know they were there anyway. I told her I probably wouldn’t use them so that would be fine. She said she would send some people over to get them later.

Dear Diary,

I went over to that restaurant next door early this morning. It didn’t seem like they were open but I was told that I could pick up some food there anytime so I went back home to get some of my utensils. It’s a good thing I took some of them from the basement before I got robbed. I thought this neighborhood was safe but I guess you never know. I’ve never been a very good cook but this restaurant has very good ingredients. They make these face meals that look just like real faces. Sounds gross, I know, but they are actually really good. Well I went over there and put together some face meals so I didn’t need to bother anyone, brought them back, and put them in my freezer. I just finished warming one up. The eyes are usually my favorite part but they were a little tougher than I remember them and they didn’t taste the same. It makes sense. I was never a very good cook. At least it wasn’t as sweet as I remember either. I guess with cooking, even I can do some things right.

There seems to be a bit of commotion outside. There are a bunch of flashing lights. I hope everyone’s all right. I’ll go check it out.