Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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4 Comments:So great to see you on Tuesday -- I'm just sorry for the circumstances that brought you to town. May your next visit be much more pleasant. Have a wonderful, uneventful end of the week.
Oh, goodness! Well, I'm glad those sweet dogs (minus the dane?) had the castle to go to - it is a lovely doggy home. Hugs and kisses to you, Sister!
Bess, I'm dreadfully behind on blog reading. First of all, I'm so sorry to hear about your father's fall. Maybe this will work out in the end and he and your mom will be in a safe place together. Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Thursday, March 29, 2007 I’m back, and frankly, I’m sort of stupid from a kind of tiredness that comes from slowing the metabolism down to institutional speed. The trade-off, when you go group, is a big cost benefit in exchange for a world that moves S L O W L Y and involves layers of stake holders who don’t always talk to each other. Monday I checked out re-hab centers and found another one where, if Daddy would go, he would prosper. All day Tuesday we were talking to doctors and nurses and social workers and re-hab centers and Dad was checking out and then he wasn’t checking out and then he was and then it got so late it was obvious he wasn’t. In the end he went to re-hab yesterday but Sister handled the transfer. I came home. In some ways I wonder if I was of any real use at all because I’m not exactly sure what I went up there to do. I didn’t know how sick Dad was before I left - too sick to let me talk to him, that’s all. I wasnt' sure if it would be his last weekend or if there was going to be time for more family strum und drang. I cleaned up the parents’ house some, covered some issues with Mama at her place, little things like spring rods in her closet at a height where she could reach her clothes, and some bigger things like explaining to housekeeping that if she says her daughter’s going to do her laundry - call the daughter first, because that just may be lalaland talking. Oh. and I could do her laundry too - since it was mid-cycle - and she was out of clean clothes. I also figured out a contradictory fantasy-discussion Mama keeps playing out - that reminds me - I need to explain that to the sisters. Otherwise they could pressure Dad for something Mama doesn’t really want. Of course, nothing happened sequentially nor did it happen in my time frame. Everything required someone calling me back. Someone who had either been away for 3 days or on vacation all last week or was out of the office. Or wanted answers only Sister knew so I had to forward them on to her and wait for her call too. Lots of waiting. Happily I have the constitution of a tick in winter, whose heart beats only once an hour. I can wait. There was a moment around mid-morning Tuesday when I wondered if I ought to just go home, but by then I’d talked to J and M and the temptation of spending the evening at TKN with them was irresistible. I stayed that extra day, met J for dinner and had a blissful evening that zoomed by so fast I felt I’d just shaken hands with everyone and it was 9 o’clock. I had taken knitting with me, but in the emotional turmoil of everything I just couldn’t settle down to knit on anything from home. It all felt so alien. I didn’t knit at all from Friday to Tuesday, but knowing I was going to join a bunch of serious stitchers I stopped at Lettuce Knit and picked up some sock yarn. It was a hot day and I wanted something bright and cheery and summery. I bought this. I thought the colors looked like popcicles.  I didn’t have my glasses on, so I didn’t see the name on the label. Cute, huh? The nice thing about socks is you can just cast on and start knitting some ribbing, even when you don’t have a pattern or an idea in mind. Most of the evening with the TKNers was chatting anyway and it was a real treat to hug and laugh and talk and touch and exclaim over each other’s projects. Check out M’s blog for photos. BD came and got me Wed. a.m., but not before Mama had called and then Daddy and then Mama again and then Daddy and then Sister. I packed up Dad’s dogs and brought them home with me. One’s a border collie and the other’s a biggish miniature dachshund. They spent their first night at CampCastle barking till 4 a.m. - or maybe longer but by then I was in really deep sleep. My dogs are always friendly, though there is some hierarchy stuff going on. Priss is the last to make friends, Socks likes to mouth everybody and Jack worries a bit and then makes friends. All the dogs are shedding except Priss, who likes to wait till late April. It’s a hairy place around here. So. All this energy. All this emotion. All this running around. Did I do any good? I think so. I had an impact on Dad - who was really trying to die. Convinced him to look at re-hab as a sports training camp so he could go home and care for his pets. I managed to do a few little things for Mama. Everything for her takes forever. It has been this way for years. And she’s become extraordinarily [more] (to me, that is) indolent. And this is a lady who’s always sat rather than stood and lay down rather than sat. But it’s a settling in process for her - for us all. Most of all, I had some alone time in their house, among a lifetime’s worth of things. For all that it looks like the house is full of junk, it’s not really. They did a fairly big purge about 10 years ago. The worst excesses were taken care of then. This time was good for me since I'd been caught a bit by surprise when the sadness kicked in after Mama's move a - yee gads! - was it only 2 weeks ago? Yes. Time alone there let me do a little goodbye ritual stuff. Now, let's see. What is it I do for a living? Oh. Yeah. Well. Off to work for me. posted by Bess | 8:10 AM |
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