How are you? I am SO looking forward to your visit, and also to not having cold and rain all the time. Now I have to go get Bill at school. I am seriesly enraged at Bill, but I will not leave him standing on the doorstep in the cold rain, because I don’t do that.
If it wasn’t raining, though ...
I’m OK. I think. My aide quit, but I don’t know if she quit the company or just me, but after this morning, it’s probably good she isn’t coming back.
I’m trying to get the house ready for company over the weekend (should be here today) and I did the cleaning myself. (Not that I can’t...it just takes me so L-O-N-G!) So I found dust between things and under things, and when I took the throw rugs out to shake them, I realized she didn’t do that, either. (*hmpf*) (My shoulder is not happy!)
This is the wrong time of month for company for any length of stay (the money has already run out! LOL!) but I’m going to try and make it enjoyable while keeping my “poverty” to myself. Sorta.
We have the beginnings of a C of C day here: no clouds, slight breeze and at the moment, it’s 39 degrees. And there are free things to see and do in the area, so I won’t complain. Life is good. At least, I say it is.
Lablady is having a tough time. She is due to be a grandma in April, and her hubby has found a new plaything, so it looks like she is in for a rough few months. And then I found her oldest son got pulled over for DUI and is sitting in jail.
*sheesh*
Motherhood is always vigilant. Just because they leave home is no guarantee they won’t break your heart.
Ohman...
I guess it’s a good thing I’m not prone to perpetual self-pity. :o]
That doesn’t sound like fun. I envision you as never getting ruffled. Perhaps some Restorative is in order? (This is the second time today that I have suggested the use of props to blur reality. I didn’t need any props—I just didn’t get new glasses. I kind of like things blurry, anyway—everything looks like a Van Gogh without the digitalis effect.)
I’m looking forward to my visit, as well, but I sure wish they would quit changing the flight times. At this rate, I will be leaving here at midnight and you’ll have to pick me up at oh-dark-thirty.
*sheesh*
Being enraged at an offspring is par for the motherhood course. None of them are perfect, and they are all here to remind us that we are not perfect, either. I often wonder how my mother survived the lives of her seven children. They were all so widely separated in age that my two eldest siblings were old enough to be my parents, and there was a younger sib behind me who wasn’t born until I was already in school.
My mother deserved a medal for endurance, I’m sure!