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Thanks JT. I probably have some buried in my Christmas box, used to do things more or less right. The last year I decorated for Christmas I did tt prettier than I ever had before, did take some pictures. Or I can easily buy some more. That little house, Dickens, has special sentimental value to me.

My heart just isn't in Christmas since I lost my son. He used to have it and have the house all nice and plenty of room for lots of people. His sisters have been able to move on but I can't. Am worried about the daughter who had the heart surgery. Won't go into too much detail, but she used to do bad drugs and prayed for deliverance from them.

Now she has a nurse practitioner that sounds like a little too permissive with the drug count. Was taking too much xanax. Now she's taking is it Percocet? I think it's an opiod. She seldom calls because they are always out of money and phones out of service. Then they get them back on for awhile. So I hate to even try to get ahold of her.

But she doesn't sound right, very drowsy, like almost drunk. I don't talk like that on my meds. Yet anyway.

So last Friday night, I finally worked up the courage to go to the emergency room. Her younger sister gets stuck with it. Well, it was awful with my rude grandson who complained about GRANDma (very derisively) and it's been 2 HOURS! I WANT TO GO HOME. Right in front of me. I started crying, then I got mad. This is eating away at me so I will say it, have no one to talk to any more.

I didn't know if they would admit me but finally wanted to go home myself and so that visit ended. Stopped at McD's and asked my daughter to run into the 24/7 store to get some seed for my "little birds". Like they need me. But I love them. Had some of the good stuff left.

So we saw some pretty lights along the way, and pulled up in front of my house. My grandson irately demands the phone from his mother. I don't know what made me say it, but it just popped out like that dangerous word. I asked something about those "demonic characters" in those games he plays. He asks me to print out pictures of them from the web so he can draw them. He used to draw happy stuff but not it's all dark and sinister.

And he threatens his mother by pulling out his private and threatening to pee on her. Years back it was stab her.

But I really hit a nerve. He got terribly agitated when I used that phrase and started ordering us not to talk about it. Demanding that we not talk about it.

She just came in from therapy. Must have talked about that. She walks in and says I'd better get on my will or it will be bad if I don't. Wow. It's so hard to deal with stuff like that.