Babygirl and I hit the road at about 11 this morning. I wasted an hour before that trying to use my Power of Attorney to get my name on my Mom's bank account. You see, Powers of Attorney expire when the person who granted them expires. So if Mom dies, I won't be able to use funds in her bank account to pay her bills until after her will hits probate, which can be months. If my name is on her account, I can continue to write checks and taking care of business. Interestingly enough our POA may not have been set up on the current legal form, so the bank is investigating whether or not they'll do it based on that form. Ugh.
So we packed up, and left, stopping halfway for lunch. About 45 minutes ahead of our arrival, we stopped in a tiny town and explored. We circled a lovely lake and admired lake houses. We toured a cheese shop and bought treats for the evening. We investigated a barn full of junk and antiques and added a little to my cobalt glass collection. We visited a Seneca Nation Reservation and discussed whether or not we were truly still in the United States while standing on 'the res.' And we drove up the mountain and went trespassing so she could see the hunting cabin her Grampa built with his own hands (even though he no longer owns it). We had Panda Paws ice cream cones. We got so engrossed in a conversation about the recent tornado that I missed our exit and had to backtrack. We ate our favorite local pizza and hot wings for dinner, caught up on the internet and watched TV with Grampa and Gramma Sharon. Altogether, it was a lovely, cool sunny day.
But the transplant makes things interesting. The instructions to waitresses. The concern that there might be too much mold and mildew in that barn to make it safe for her to go in. Limiting 'taste testing' in the cheese shop due to safety concerns. Debating whether fresh cheese curds are allowed at THIS point since her counts are good......
It's always in the background. Always in my mind. Always, always a concern.