DEMENTIA CARE: THOSE CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS IN FULL.

See my previous blog post for how it all started. How did it end? I was setting up Christmas decorations ahead of time. And did that work out for me? I pressed invisible hooks into the walls. Then I moved carefully, stringing up one of those foil garlands.
   After that, I stopped. My plan was based around furniture I’d moved last year. So much went. What was left had to be moved around. Change throughout the year leads to change around the festive season…
   Yes, I planned space for the Christmas tree. That was still going to work. I only bumped into it once today. Will get used to that. Must remember not to open the door wide as I walk in the room from the tree-end.
   I relearn that skill every year – and fast.
   It’s the television that caused the problem. I got away with it last year. But I managed so much space I’m surprised they didn’t put me in charge of a moonbase. Same bed. Different layout in the room…
   The television used to accept Christmas ornaments. But the TV swivels from a bed position to a chair position and back again on a daily basis. Yes, the new TV stand could hold Christmas decorations, but I’d have to move them, knock them over, catch them, drop them, lose them, and find them a day later…
   And on the regular, that just ain’t happening.
   So…festive decorations would be diminished. That’s why I switched to buying foil decorations for the walls. Memories of what used to be. And now, with the angle in the bed, in the chair, it is easier to see those things once again.
   Planning. Let’s have those up and running, tried and tested, before December. And I’ll have the lot up in no time. Except…just putting one decoration up was a supreme pain. I did a decoration a day. Sometimes I did two of them.
   Measure. Grab the stepladder. Move the chair. Stick the invisible hooks in place. Measure some more. I am done for one day. Return to the task another day. Refreshed. Ready to go. That’s a new decoration up? Quit again.
   And so it went. I had other caring duties to see to. Christmas dinner was just about arranged. I think it’s all there, now. Will check again this week. All the tins are there. The jars of preserved good. The sauces, chutney, pepper, the fizzy drink…
   I try to keep the memory of it alive. Well. Decorating went slowly. Plan a decoration. Fix it to the wall. Take the decoration down and box it for December the first. I could have started the day early, putting decorations in place.
   But I wanted my nice usual pleasant start to the day. This is something I manufacture. I invent it, to see me through until the start of carer routine. If I have around ninety minutes of peace, then I claim the time.
   Being a carer, I don’t always get that. But every single day there’s the manufactured illusion of it. Most days, the illusion becomes reality. Anyway…
   Today, a Sunday, I couldn’t be bothered putting the decorations up straight away. I had the care team in. Then I did more caring. I had a meal. Then I put the decorations up. There were a few decisions to make about which foil fancies to place where.
   I have more decorations than I need. A few of the ceiling arrangements are going to put a strain on these decorations over time. When I break one of these foil flimsies, it’s done. That’s when I’ll reach for a spare.
   Inside half an hour, I had everything unfolded, pinned or clipped together, and then hanging on string from hooks you can’t see. There were a few dodgy moments, trying to move the stepladder into position, but I didn’t land on anything fragile – like a TV or another human being.
   I zoomed through the hooking, fixing, arranging, and stepped back to admire the work – but not for long. A promise was a promise. I’d promised myself a coffee. My mind returned to my mother’s night-long adjustment of Christmas decorations.
   Changed days. The main problem is the ceiling hoist, and the light that had to move out of whack to accommodate that. My mother’s decorating took in every corner of the room, and then some. She crisscrossed the central part of the ceiling with even more garlands, bells, snowflakes, snowballs, trees, and abstract designs.
   The lights acted as beacons, with garlands crossing diagonally from the corners. That doesn’t work now. The lights are out of synch. And there’s a dead zone for the ceiling hoist. I decided that I wouldn’t bother much…
   Yes, I put up two foil chandeliers. They would have occupied the mid-zone…between the lights. Wall, space, light, space, chandelier, space, bells, space, chandelier, space, light, space, wall. Garlands to and from the chandeliers as a garnish.
   Now the two new chandeliers are at the tree-end of the room. These chandeliers are smaller than the original majestic foil beauties. But there’s less space on the ceiling. So that almost worked out.
   With my coffee out of the way, it was time to make good on the second half of the decorating game. I’d added a storage unit in the corner. Way up high, this was just the place for Santa, a snowman, and a reindeer.
   I used what I could from last year’s decoration box. Then I went for the tree. The last tree my mother personally picked out for herself. She wanted a tree that was seven feet tall, and she got it.
   Trees are sold in cardboard boxes that are no good. This year I rearranged the hall cupboard. The tree lives there, downstairs, right next to the room it is used in. And it lives there in two Christmas tree boxes. They are sturdy.
   When I rearranged the cupboard, I made it easier to remove the boxes. I built the base, and slapped the three tree sections together in record time. This tree lights up. Plug connects to tree bottom. Tree bottom has its own plug connecting to mid-tree. The mid-tree has its own connector to the tiny top tree.
   I marked these connectors with white tape, so I could easily locate them. Today, for once, this system worked. I had the whole tree up in sixty seconds. It took me longer to run through all the lighting sequences, until I accepted one of the slow fade routines.
   Is it perfect? No. I must be careful opening the door. And I have to watch what I am doing as I move the chair around with a human being in it. There’s about the same space as there was last year…just shuffled around a little.
   Did my plan work? I had the decorations up very quickly. Yes, I could have started the day with the decorating. Now I know, for sure. Taking the decorations back down will be even quicker…even though there are far more decorations up this year.
   No calamities. Brightening the place, just a little. Tinsel glittering. Garlands…garlanding. A snowman here. Two Santas there. The reindeer might get drunk and fall down the back of a photo case it is perched on. I’ll watch for that. It’ll be funny.
   Now, in the next ten days, the bulk of the cards will come in. And I’ll more or less fit them on the fake fireplace. It’s an ornament, all-year-round. What’s missing? There was a dusting of snow. But the weather’s been super mild.
   December the first. There are no leaves on the trees, but there are one or two flowers hanging on in the garden. Rainy days, sure. Windy nights, absolutely. But it’s the first of December, and I haven’t had the heating on today…
   So mild. I’ll put the heating on in about an hour, to take away any chill in the night. There’s no predicting winter. I’ll be up to the eyebrows in mammoths and polar bears inside a week, no doubt.
   Yes, the one thing that’s missing is extreme winter weather. We go years at a time without it, now. And that means we’ve adjusted to slightly cold days. To us, those are now freezing, wintry, Arctic, and so on.
   But they really aren’t. The big shovel, the wide brush, the box of salt, and all the layers I’ll need for being out there in the wasteland…these things are ready and waiting. Some years, they wait and wait.
   Fog always surprises. Frost ambushes the senses when you stare through the frosted glass at the white green grass barely visible outside. Rain doesn’t surprise or ambush. It stomps in, as noisily as it can. If anything shocks, it isn’t snow…but sunshine. Super-mild days bewilder us.
   It’s a rainy night. But it is also an icicle night. Not an icy night: a night of electrical lights, pretending to be icicles. This festooning of the guttering advances along the street every year, in patches of yellow or blue, depending on taste.
   My limit is pre-placed hooks, and foil decorations and a tree in boxes for ease of use. I draw the line at climbing to the roof to hang icicles. Safety first. Also, the point of the decorations is to let the cared-for enjoy festive memories. And you can’t get those from icicle lights on your own roof, when you are tucked up warm inside. If you are being looked after in winter, being warm inside is the place to be.
   Besides. There are icicles hanging from the tree.