More training on the way. I believe I can get to this task this afternoon. In the meantime, this feeder is not going to be refilled.
Yesterday I got news that my father took a turn for the worse. You've all been there, managing this parent dying thing. Oh, dear. I'm sorry to frame it this way. He's not on his deathbed; he has merely graduated to a walker. He's fallen twice in the last two weeks, legs giving out. This last time he couldn't stand again when my brother lifted him back up. So, in the middle of Sunday's ice storm, an ambulance took him to the ER. God bless my brother for being there, for being his caregiver. God bless. God bless. Repeat a thousand times.
No broken bones. Not a stroke. Not medication related; he's on none. Just age (101) related weakness. With this diagnosis came the command to admit him overnight - it was 1 a.m. by this time - and send him to a nursing home, uh, forever. Now, my poor father fears a nursing home more than death.
My brother refused this command. My Dad got a walker instead. Yes, he could manage a few steps, so at 2 a.m., my brother and he figured out a way to get him into his pick up, then get him out of it, help him across the ice, up three stairs, into the house and into bed. Later, yesterday, my father, was up, getting his breakfast, getting used to his walker.
It's a segue. In a couple days I'm going up to visit and take care of financial stuff. In a perfect world, I'll have the squirrels trained by then.
Have a wonderful day
with lots of adventure