Another blizzard sailed through the area on Monday. There is nothing like an early morning commute in horizontal snow. Last weekend was the same. The weather station here has a 90 million dollar doplar weather radar system. They said high 50's to 70 degrees all week. Today is Wednesday and we made the 60's today finally. Give me one million dollars and I will predict weather better than this.
Sparky and James let the house go into foreclosure. There are no words for how I feel about this. On the one hand I can tell they just got in way over their heads. On the other hand this has been a giant CF from day one. She took out a second mortgage and raised our rent. I can't personally see why but recently she bought a home for her son too. Now this one is going into foreclosure? I have begun the onerous task of packing up my stuff again. At the first real hint of any sort of notice, I am going to be ready to go. Pray for me.
Other problems: Robert has started talking with a southern accent. (See previous blog on Why Oh Why can't my family be normal) This accent would be (a little) OK if he had ever been to the south. Or had been around anyone with a southern accent in the last 13 years. Or had ever talked this way before except to joke about our dearly departed mother. Or didn't go in and out of the accent 3 times during a conversation.
Also new problem: He has become a hugger. Don't get me wrong, the huggers of the world are alive and doing OK, just not in my family. If my mother or father ever stretched out an arm towards us you would have seen 5 kids stop, drop, & roll away fast. I have NEVER hugged Robert before last Sunday. Now he wants a hug all the time. Can you hear the Twilight Zone theme music, because I can.
Tomorrow his social worker is coming with him to the house to make sure he has some sort of grasp on how to live with his new titanium hip in our home. Also to check that I have moved his stuff upstairs into a "better situation than what he was in before". She called me today at work to tell me all about her visit. As she prattled on I thought to myself what if I say NO, then what? They keep him in the hospice for the next however long? He can't drive, walk, stand up to cook, go to the bathroom, or use a shower alone. I felt as if she were trying to threaten me with not letting him come home.
And all the hinting that this was going to be better for him to be upstairs. Like I had argued against it with her before or something. He can't navigate stairs, I get it. But what's better?
Better than his old room and door with a lock on it? Better than a geeks wet dream solid state computer set up with high speed Internet and a 40" screen and surround sound? Better than his own refrigerator, griddle, toaster, and coffee pot in the room with him? Better than what? Who offered the inferior alternative? I feel like there is a piece of the puzzle I am missing here.
Well, now it is cold so I better go start the heater.
Sparky and James let the house go into foreclosure. There are no words for how I feel about this. On the one hand I can tell they just got in way over their heads. On the other hand this has been a giant CF from day one. She took out a second mortgage and raised our rent. I can't personally see why but recently she bought a home for her son too. Now this one is going into foreclosure? I have begun the onerous task of packing up my stuff again. At the first real hint of any sort of notice, I am going to be ready to go. Pray for me.
Other problems: Robert has started talking with a southern accent. (See previous blog on Why Oh Why can't my family be normal) This accent would be (a little) OK if he had ever been to the south. Or had been around anyone with a southern accent in the last 13 years. Or had ever talked this way before except to joke about our dearly departed mother. Or didn't go in and out of the accent 3 times during a conversation.
Also new problem: He has become a hugger. Don't get me wrong, the huggers of the world are alive and doing OK, just not in my family. If my mother or father ever stretched out an arm towards us you would have seen 5 kids stop, drop, & roll away fast. I have NEVER hugged Robert before last Sunday. Now he wants a hug all the time. Can you hear the Twilight Zone theme music, because I can.
Tomorrow his social worker is coming with him to the house to make sure he has some sort of grasp on how to live with his new titanium hip in our home. Also to check that I have moved his stuff upstairs into a "better situation than what he was in before". She called me today at work to tell me all about her visit. As she prattled on I thought to myself what if I say NO, then what? They keep him in the hospice for the next however long? He can't drive, walk, stand up to cook, go to the bathroom, or use a shower alone. I felt as if she were trying to threaten me with not letting him come home.
And all the hinting that this was going to be better for him to be upstairs. Like I had argued against it with her before or something. He can't navigate stairs, I get it. But what's better?
Better than his old room and door with a lock on it? Better than a geeks wet dream solid state computer set up with high speed Internet and a 40" screen and surround sound? Better than his own refrigerator, griddle, toaster, and coffee pot in the room with him? Better than what? Who offered the inferior alternative? I feel like there is a piece of the puzzle I am missing here.
Well, now it is cold so I better go start the heater.
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