Hell hath no fury-

Like an 11 year old boy denied a snow day after the first really good sledding snow of the year fell the night before…

The reaction was decidedly NOT pretty, I can assure you.

Just because

I love Lucinda Williams-



Y'all have a lovely weekend. carry on.

Hola!

Yes, they let us back across the border, imagine that...

Just a quick hey y'all to the one or two people that would be concerned if we had been incarcerated at the airport. The proverbial good time was had by all, the scuba diving was quite good, the ruins were epic, the sand sandy and the sun sunny- all in all an excellent trip. Just wanted to share a quick story that really struck me.

On the morning of the inauguration the boys had booked some windsurfing lessons, as the Hurricane really was dying to go, and Tuesday was more or less our one relax and chill day. Miss Thing and I were no way in hell going to miss the swearing in and had assumed it would be CNN in the room. Hell no! Here I was in Mexico, at a resort mostly frequented by nice folks from Europe and South America and they showed it in it's entirety on the big ass wide screen in the lobby bar and also live at the theater on a full sized cinema screen. I opted for the bar. Sue me, I was on vacation people...

So here we sit, in a bar in Mexico watching an American President taking the oath of office. Which in and of itself was somewhat surreal, I can assure you. Things were just getting started and the lovely bartender, who by then knew me well- probably due to my propensity to tip heavily, hands me a bottle of champagne and two glasses. I guess I must have given him a slightly startled look and he just smiled and said "Congratulations!"

As President Obama put his hand on the bible the place literally stopped. Waiters, bartenders, bellmen, tourists- damn near everyone was rooted in place. I admit, I teared up when the oath was taken and my heart felt so much lighter and hopeful. And then a very strange thing happened. All of these people erupted in spontanious cheers and clapping. People started congratulating the few Americans there, smiling, hugging and laughing. Complete strangers, most of whom were not my fellow countrymen, were celebrating this moment. I must say, it really does give me hope for the future, something I have been sorely lacking these last few years.

Here's to hope my friends! It's going to be a tough row to hoe and perhaps people might have finally realized it's going to take all of us to get through it.

Now I really need to go start on the laundry and go to the grocery- back to reality.

See y'all later- be safe!

Why not?

The conversation went something like this:


The Beast- The weather's really getting bad. Let's go to Mexico.

Me-OK honey, my S.A.D. is getting bad- April, May, when?

Him- I was thinking next week. You hate this time of year.

Me- Huh?

Him- No -really, fuck it let's just go.

Me- Umm, really? Next week?

Him- What the hell, whatever -let's just go.

Me- OK- Honey some people just do this sort of shit at the spur of the moment. We aren't those people. Those people only exist on TV.

Him- Next week we are those people.

Me- OK, works for me. Are you sure about this? It's a little crazy.

Him- We've earned a little crazy the last few months don't you think? And this way I don't have to hear you whine about packing your butt into a bathing suit for three months. Everyone wins.

Me- I'll go get some fresh sunscreen tomorrow.



See y'all when we get back from the Riviera Maya..

" See the footage of the rare, venomous mammal"

Rare footage of one of the world's most strange and elusive mammals has been captured by scientists.

Large, and with a long, thin snout, the Hispaniolan solenodon resembles an overgrown shrew; it can inject passing prey with a venom-loaded bite.

Oh really?

Please, Ann Coulter isn't that elusive guys- seriously. And come on, the only venomous mammal? Are we forgetting Michelle Malkin?

When I grow up...

I want to be Helen.

If I play my cards right I may be a quarter as amazing, which is still pretty damn good.

Now, back to whatever you were doing.

May your New Year bring you joy-

I tend to view New Year’s resolutions as self-defeating prophecies personally. But then again I also consider stupidity to be the chlorine in the gene pool…

Goals in and of themselves I find a laudable thing, truly. It’s the setting of sweeping, all encompassing goals I find to be self-defeating. I’m not sure if it’s because I am by nature a pragmatist or it happens to be merely an aspect of my controlling nature, but not having a definable road map to achieve a goal is a recipe for failure as I see it. All of that said, I generally do not make New Years resolutions because intentionally setting myself up to fail seems rather silly to me. This year however I have made an exception to that hard and fast rule, I have indeed decided to make a few.

Those of you that have been listening to me whine for the past 12 months realize that on the whole 2008 sucked royally for me and mine. And when I heard they were actually adding a second to the clock this year, thus making 2008 one second longer to balance the atomic clock, I quite literally screamed “NOOOOO!” enough already, begone with you foul year, I wish to see nothing but the screen door hitting your misbegotten ass on the way out! Ahem, where was I… Oh yes, resolutions.

I really will be taking better care of myself this coming year. I fear I am in danger of not only total exhaustion, but also developing a major case of martyr syndrome. Let’s face it, that’s really an amazingly unattractive thing socially, and surely not a particularly charming one emotionally for those you inflict yourself upon. A large part of this will be reacquainting myself with the word NO. Deceptively small, but incredibly powerful my little friend is. While not turning my back on those I love and the duties I have taken upon myself, I will be recalling the concept of limits, and trying to put them into practice.

I further resolve to remember to tell the people I love and appreciate far more frequently how much I love them. While I don’t really think I’ve gone so far down the self absorbed route that I ignore any of them, I could frankly be a lot more proactive in the letting them know department… To all my friends in this lively little virtual family we’ve created, my genuine and heartfelt love and thanks for supporting me throughout all the fun and games of the last 12 months. And to those of you forced to listen to my dulcet tones whining away on the other end of the phone, your patience and love has been a gift beyond reckoning and truly kept me sane. Or in my case what I pass off as sanity.

Be safe, be well and peace and all good blessings upon all your houses. Now, if you'll excuse me I need to go change into an evening gown so I can proceed to get drunk on my own couch.

Joy to the world, and all that jazz.

By way of the always interesting Citizen of the World a little Christmas meme. As I am sure y'all don't want to hear anymore whining, and surely no more youthful indiscretions.

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? A mix of both, I like a little variety. Plus, lets face it, some items can really be a pain in the ass to wrap.

2. Real tree or Artificial? Real, I’m allergic to artificial anything.

3. When do you put up the tree? When do you take the tree down? Up- December 14^th. Yes, really. That sucker gets pitched off the back deck by dark on New Year’s Day. Having the thing around for a month and a half sort of takes the festive part of it out of the proceedings for me.

5. Do you like eggnog? Yes actually, I have an excellent recipe, it uses rum, irish whisky and brandy- what's not to like? The commercial crap, not so much.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? A red bike on my 10^th birthday.

7. Hardest person to buy for? Baby Sister.

8. Easiest person to buy for? The Hurricane.

9. Do you have a nativity scene? No, I expect they’d take my agnostic card away..

10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Depends on the recipient and how far behind I happen to be running.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? A truly hideous dress from my husband. And I do mean hideous! Coco was in heaven crying I tell you!

12. Favorite Christmas Movie? A Christmas Story.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? If I see something I know is perfect I pick it up, no matter the time of year.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? I am ashamed to admit, yes.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? That list is way too long to fit here.

16. Lights on the tree? White fairy lights.

17. Favorite Christmas Song? It’s a toss up"Bring a Torch Jeanette Isabella" or “I Saw Three Ships”

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Home, period. Long story involving childhood travels on Christmas Day.

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer? Yep.

20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Neither, a large red bow.

21. Open presents on Christmas Eve or morning? One on Christmas Eve, the balance of the loot they have to wait, because I’m sadistic like that.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? Rude, obnoxious behavior. OK, it’s annoying all the time, but seems to run rampant this time of the year.

23. Favorite Ornament theme or color? Three guesses and the first two don’t count..

24. Favorite thing for Christmas dinner? Someone else doing the dishes.

25. What do you want for Christmas this year? Well Santa, since you asked… World peace, a stabilized economy, and end to global warming. Oh, and if it’s not too much trouble I’d like a ticket to Mexico in my stocking and for my ass to look like it did when I was thirty.

May you all be well and safe and surrounded by those you love. And in the spirit of all the sharing my darling Wills has been doing with his favorite carols, here we have my two favorites.



And Gavin, forgive me for featuring the MTC, but it really is the loveliest arrangement I've ever heard of the song..

A Christmas Memory-

Mamma had an amazing way of bending reality to suit her needs of the given moment. I won’t say she mowed over opposition and adversity; she merely said “pardon me” and walked right on past. It was indeed denial on a truly virtuoso grade level...

Christmas was always a little strange around our house, and genuinely did get a tad weirder as the years rolled by. My folks were in the restaurant business, owned three of them actually, in three different towns. These people worked- as in all the damn time… Christmas was always to me one of those rare times we were all in the same place at the same time. As a child this was lovely, as I rolled into my teenage years, not so much.

Anydigression, the whole deal with my mother and Christmas was a two pronged attack- One it was a way for her to salve her guilty maternal conscience at her perceived shortcomings due to her work schedule, which always back fired horribly. Frankly all I ever wanted was just her there, but in typical fashion it had to be turned into a full blown Cecil B. DeMille epic of tasteful decorating, heaps of presents and loads of non stop eating and partying. In short, it was exhausting, not only to her but for everyone else. Two, it was her particular brand of molding the universe into what she needed it to be at its finest. Things may have been insane the rest of the time, but you better bet Christmas was going to be her lovely little snow globe of perfection, no matter what- get on board or get out of the way!

Christmas Eve 1976 was a prime example. My folks had a huge (and I mean huge- as in I’ve seen actual BARS that didn’t have bars this big) bar in the basement, and loved to throw parties. The annual Christmas Eve party was her crown jewel. The entire house was perfectly decorated and half the town showed up. As a kid I longed for Santas and reindeer with blinking noses and loads of flashing lights... nope, way too tacky for her. Now mind you it was all really quite lovely, but the average child really has little or no appreciation for something that belongs on the cover of a magazine, kids want that over the top stuff. As the years passed I resigned myself to getting my flashy fix at friend’s houses and quit nagging her about it.

Then there was the food. Dad used the kitchen at the restaurant and had half the staff working during down time getting it all put together. The restaurants were always closed on Christmas Eve, so the carting in and bar stocking and so forth would commence quite early that morning. Thus the day consisted of either staying the hell out of the way if you were little, or getting drafted into service once you were of an age to be put to use.

Brother #1 was actually managing the bar/nightclub at one of the restaurants at the time so he naturally got drafted to tend bar at the party, Brother #2 got drafted for heavy lifting and I was her main assistant and flunky. After playing assistant all day I was getting a little frazzled, so when she decided to send Brother #1 out to the liquor store for a forgotten bottle of VSOP before they closed, I begged her to let me go too because I really needed to get out of the house. She relented, I grabbed my coat and off we went...

En route I decided to break out the very thoughtful gift my boyfriend had given me and share with big brother... some particularly fine hash. We made it through the liquor store after only having been stopped 5 or 6 times by various people and got in the car and headed for home. We both decided a soda would be an excellent idea, so we side tracked over to the 7-11. A few blocks further I decided we’d damn well better hit the drug store for some Visine before we went home.

All told, I expect this took an hour and a half or so, since we detoured around the gold course one last time to blow another bowl... We pulled into the driveway and in the same breath both went “OH SHIT!” There she stood looking out the kitchen window with THAT look on her face. In my mind the theme from Jaws was playing at about 7 decibels... We were in truly deep shit. Barely missing a beat, brother dear hissed, “car trouble, work with it!” Well I decided to let him manage this situation and pray for the best, figuring he was the eldest after all, and was far more experienced in these matters. That and I was high as a kite and she was loaded for bear.

The man was smarter than I gave him credit for, it was indeed a known fact that the VW bus he drove was notorious for requiring a jump start at the most inopportune moments- she bought it. The fact she was well into her second bourbon and water no doubt helped us slide that excuse over the threshold, allowing us to escape to try and pull ourselves together. The thing that didn’t help was Brother #2 standing right behind her smoking an imaginary joint and trying not to laugh his ass off...

So the house was ready, the food was ready and it was time for us to all get ready- another component of this little tableau was naturally that we all had to be perfectly dressed and be utterly charming to the entire assemblage of guests.. Oy! In actuality, most of their friends were genuinely nice people. It just tended to be fairly tiresome at that point in the proceedings to have to be adorable.

So off I trotted to my bedroom to get dressed. You know, it’s kind of hard to do full face; hair and fancy dress when you’re that high... Thankfully by the time I was done getting ready I had more or less come down. Time for the last lap before show time, the generalissimo’s final inspection. House perfect- check. Bar ready- check. Food ready- check. Children presentable- check. Staff ready to roll- check.

**Side note, no they really didn’t force anyone to work Christmas Eve. Actually there was much currying of favor and jockeying of position amongst the line bitches and waitrons to score the party gig. The Old Fart may have been a rat bastard about some things but he did treat his employees exceptionally well and never served cheap liquor. The party gig involved a rather sizeable cash thank you from the old man, and a number of bottles of good booze in the kitchen. As long as no one got too plowed to function, he could have cared less how much got consumed.**

Herself would then order the candles lit, the luminaries placed out front and retire to freshen her drink and put the finishing touches on her ensemble while she and the old man got whatever they’d been bitching at one another about out of the way.

The boys were supposed to get the luminaries lit, but brother #2 told me to throw on my coat and help, and bring along a little something in my coat pocket... I guess he was put out over missing out on the earlier round. So we snuck around behind the garage after we got them lit and lo and behold-we had company. Seems a few of the staff had the same idea… Shortly thereafter 6 or 8 extremely stoned people came out from behind the garage just in time to note that the Chief of Police and his lovely wife had just pulled up to the curb.. That, my dears, is what we refer to as an “I’m so fucked” moment. I turned to see if any of my older, wiser compadres were going to step up to the plate and manage this situation and realized in one heart stopping second that the entire damn lot of them had abandoned me and headed for the house. So there I was, all by my little lonesome, high as a kite and convinced I was going to be the only teen aged girl in the town’s history to be hauled off to jail on Christmas Eve. Then the light bulb came on, just pretend you’re Mamma- simple. I strolled on up to the car opened Mrs. C.O.P.’s car door for her and wished them a Merry Christmas... Well he looked at me a little funny and said “Dora honey, why on earth are you out here in the cold?” Umm “lighting luminaries?? Y’all come on in the house before you freeze!”

So my very stoned little self was escorted into the house by Mr. Police Chief and the Mrs., only to open the door and see #1 and #2 standing there with looks of abject terror on their faces. Mamma greeted the lovely folks, instructed the boys to take their coats and sashayed with them on down to the bar..

#1 looked at me and shook his head and kept repeating “VSOP,VSOP..Very Stupid On (our) Part kiddo, very stupid.” Thus 1976 then and forever after became known as the VSOP Christmas….

And the rest of the evening? Let’s just say it was a long, long night..

Happy Thanksgiving!

Yes, I fully realize I’m a bit early. But given the week ahead it’s now or never kids..

It’s going to be a bit sad I expect not having the Old Fart around to arm chair chef the entire meal.. Not surprisingly holidays were all about the food in my household growing up. Presents and all are swell, but when do we eat and what are we having??? As he aged and allowed his daughters to more or less take over the turning out the feast duties, he resigned himself to parking on a barstool with a glass of wine and making sure the two of us didn’t do anything contrary to the proper way, ie: HIS way. With the exception of the dressing, because truthfully he really was the only one that made it right, and I’ve been trying for 20 or more years.

Dora, did you brine that turkey overnight?

Yes, Daddy of course I did..

Baby Sister, did you bring that bag of sage we cut this morning? I don’t want any of that dried stuff on the bird.

Yes Pop, it’s right here...

Dora, did you make cornbread last night so I can make dressing?

Yes Daddy, I did..

You made pecan and pumpkin pies, right?

Yes Daddy, look right over there on the sideboard..

And on and on it would go until supper time. Two grown women, one of them a genuine chef with a degree, being bullied by their father- comical actually. There is however a reason Baby Sister and I usually managed to finish a bottle of wine before dinner..

So here’s to you Daddy, we’ll miss you this year and I’ll sing “Alice’s Restaurant” just for you- And for you lucky souls that won’t be in the kitchen for the performance- take it away Arlo..





Peace and all good blessings upon all your houses.

I need a pick me up..

Normally new shoes do it every time. Something red in cashmere perks me right up. A long afternoon at the day spa? Oh hell yes that does the trick no matter how tapped out I am.

However, as it’s November, Christmas is right around the corner and the bills from the long stay in the hospital from hell are wending their way into the mail box- I really can’t bring myself to spend any money on my usual non chemical antidepressants right now. So I cleaned my closets instead… I am a very disturbed person in obvious need of help. But on the plus side, I found a belt that had gone missing months ago and the shoe shrine is all nice and reorganized.

Who am I kidding? Productive, yes.. but I really want a day at the spa, a new red cashmere wrap and new shoes. I am so, so shallow. Sorry, I’m just too bloody tired of it all to wax poetic about gaining new strength of character and so forth. I’m quite a character as it is, thank you very much and I just want one stress free, drama-less day that involves no one asking me questions, expecting me to fix things or take care of their issues!

Tantrum over, I promise. Back to being practical, pragmatic and calm now. Thanks for listening, now back to your regularly scheduled lives.

Tag- I'm it..

My dear Wills decided to distract me with the ever popular closest book meme- and then proceeded to tag my usual victims.. shame on you!

Anyway here's the game. Open the book nearest your computer (and be honest not something artsy-fartsy so you can impress everyone) turn to page 56 and post the 5th sentence, plus a bit before and after for context.

Humm, well right next to my computer is a copy of the Virginia POA Act, revised edition.. not so interesting, trust me on this. So the next closest being my bedside table. On the top of the precarious stack is So Me, by Graham Norton. Yes, I adore Graham Norton, sue me.

On St. Patrick's Day a film crew was in the bar we were in near Vie de France. The people I was with brought the camera crew over because I was Irish. They asked me how I was planning to celebrate the saint's day. Full of lager and confidence I replied "I'm going to drink and drink and then go home and get sick" Well, I learnt a valuable lesson about programme making. When it was broadcast on the news the piece wasn't about St. Patrick's Day, it was about new tougher drunk driving legislation and by the time they edited my comments into the piece, I looked like some sort of crazed killer. Thankfully I don't vomit any more.

Well I'll choose the following victims and leave it up to them whether they wish to play along or not- Oh Al dear, you really haven't enough serious things to do you know.. yes you may yell at me later. I'm sure Jeff is reading something interesting, as no doubt is Red and his partner in crime The Maine Gay. The lovely Miss Booda, having escaped incineration hopefully didn't pack all her books to prepare to decamp if needed.

Now, I think I need to go attend to the teetering tower 'o books next to the bed before they fall on me or one of the dogs in the middle of the night.

I give myself excellent advice, I however rarely ever take it.

I should have heeded my own advice, asking “What next?” is an open invitation to more chaos.. But no, I had to open my big mouth..

I have indeed been much absent from blog land here of late due to overwhelming responsibilities requiring my attention. Also things have been such that anything that was likely to come out of my mouth would merely sound like annoying whining, and we know how I detest that..

Anyway, my thanks to my VGP for letting me ramble on, I do expect however when I pop up on caller ID , you most likely have to debate whether you pick up the phone or not, as it must be getting tiresome! But my loving thanks to Tater Bug, Tony and Al for stoically listening to me babble.. And Wills, check your junk email box dear, just in case I’ve landed there.. that or you just don’t love me anymore, sniffle… And all the lovely emails have been much appreciated dears, and to those of you that didn’t get a response, you’ll just have to forgive me this time.

Let’s see, where were we? The Beast is home convalescing. I’m somewhat concerned that he’s not progressing quite as well as either the doctor or I had presumed he would, but then again I will take slow over not at all any day of the week. My darling one and only nephew (son of Brother #1) had a rather nasty accident and crushed his right hand, numerous pins and a lengthy surgery later it appears that he’ll regain full use and all will be well. The Hurricane broke his right index finger playing football a few days ago, no shock there, the kid ought to have his own triage nurse by now honestly. The following day Brother #1, a generally cautious and methodical man if there ever was one, tried to sever his left index finger at work. All is well, no permanent damage.

The coup de gras to the hand related accidents (weird, huh?) I tried to slice my left thumb off the Thursday evening before Halloween while carving pumpkins. Thirty some odd years of disemboweling jack ‘o lanterns with nary a scratch and I had to pick now for the spectacular accident. Five stitches- and I have very small hands. Actually I was laughing my ass off as I was driving home from the ER.. I called Baby Sister and she was convinced I finally went off the high board and into the deep end. Hey, laugh or lose your mind.

Let’s see, other than that I have been much occupied at work. The general getting a brand new practice up and running and getting ready for a large open house to debut Doogie Houser MD to the community. Well we all know how I love to throw a party, but I’m having a bit of trouble getting into it truthfully, but hopefully it will indeed be a swell affair. My house looks like a herd of wildebeest migrated through and I find it very dismaying as I really haven’t had the time to address the accumulating chaotic mess. I tried hiring a wife/Beast sitter, it hasn’t worked out so well. Swell idea in theory, in practice I guess I chose the wrong candidate. Figuring I needed the help, a friend was unemployed and getting desperate so I pay her and everyone wins, right? Not so much. How do you tell someone you genuinely like that you don’t pay for napping on the job, and the point was to help me out not create even more work for me?? I couldn’t really afford it to begin with, but I had no choice as himself is still in need of a caregiver for a little while yet and it's a little hard to ask for 5 or 6 weeks off from a job you just started and actually do NEED. Another note to self- don’t hire friends it only leads to trouble..

The entire Executrix thing has been not only mildly annoying, but somewhat more emotionally upsetting than I would have anticipated. And I’m here to tell you, shopping for headstones is a real major bummer.

See, I told you it would all just end up sounding like whining. Gee, I guess that’s because it is. Be well dears, be safe and enjoy the thought that 1/20/2009 is closer with every passing day!!!!!!!!!

Is this a karmic sign or am I just being hopeful??

For the three of you who care, there is an update on the general drama coming, I swear. But this was too funny to let it sit for a week until I got around to it.
Some couples play golf or whatever together, the Beast and I vote together. Romantic, I know. Anyway, we got up at the crack of dawn to go vote before I left for work. We figured there would be a wait, so I decided to bring a camp stool, get there by 5:30, pull up and drop him off while I found a parking place. We get to the VFD and the parking lot is a zoo and folks are parking a quarter mile away or more. Since he can’t walk much yet, I was still determined to drop him off and then park and hike it on over.

I pull into the parking lot and it was a total cluster fuck.. people generally being idiots and trying to invent parking places that don’t exist so they didn’t have to walk. Beastman tells me this is not working and he’s sure he can make it from a reasonable distance. So, I decide to attempt to extricate myself from the mess. Meanwhile an asshole in a Hummer and an asshole in an Escalade (both with McCain/Palin bumper stickers -naturally) decide to totally block the only thing that passes for an egress from this disaster, blissfully unaware or simply not caring that they had cut off everyone in the entire parking lot from the only exit.

After a good bit of tricky backing and turning and maneuvering I get to the point where I’m nearly out of this disaster and what happens? Another asshole in an F-150 (guess again what he was sporting on the back of his truck) cuts off my only escape route and refuses to move- in spite of the fact that even in pitch dark it’s painfully obvious there’s no where to park and no way out but the sliver of open driveway I was trying to get through.

At this point yours truly was a wee bit annoyed, so I figure the only way out is to back up a bit further on the grass and scoot along as close to the ditch line as I could. I hear a thump on the passenger side in the rear.. Not loud enough to be a car, and I know full well there’s not a single vehicle parked on the embankment, so I was naturally wondering what the hell I could have hit, as there’s not a lot of anything that passes for a light source in the parking lot I couldn’t really make it out.

The Beast, being a terminal back seat driver, had been looking behind also. Suddenly he starts laughing hysterically. When he finally caught his breath he says “Honey, you just ran over Sarah Palin!!”

Sure enough, I had creamed the cardboard cut- out of Caribou Barbie that was parked next to the big obnoxious McCain Palin sign. He then says “Really dear, I know you can’t stand the woman, but isn’t that taking it a little too far?” I proceed to go into convulsive laughter myself and managed to not only ruin my mascara due to the tears, but also manage to give myself the hiccups.

Here’s hoping it was a sign from above!!!! Have a swell election day my dears and go get yourselves to the polls!!!!

Anyone have a spare Xanax?

Because losing my shit isn't a luxury I have at the moment..

The Beast is not out of the woods yet, but the doc is cautiously optimistic. They were able to re-sect a substantial chunk of his sigmoid and if he heals properly no colostomy! Which would be a good thing, I figure it beats dead all to hell, but I'm thinking the big fella would be most unhappy should that occur. Can't say I blame him. But still, I'd rather have him alive with the bag if that's my only option, thank you very much.

The kids are actually handling this pretty well, all things considered. More than a little freaked out that this happened exactly a week after Grandpa died, but dealing with the situation well actually. After hearing the tale (granted there's morphine involved, but I know my husband and it no doubt happened exactly the way he relayed it) he was having severe stomach pain, tried the hot bath routine, jacked himself up on an insane amount of RX strength Motrin(like a moron) and passed out in the bedroom- thankfully the dogs got quite upset by this and licked and whined it appears until he came to and could dial 911.. They A) Will be getting a steak for dinner tonight and B) I will never again bitch about the mountain of dog hair on the floor, I swear. Free pass for life.

Note to self, just don't leave him alone anymore, he always lands in the hospital or does something stupid..

Off to the hospital to check in on him, and then home to do some financial projections. While we are thankfully very, very lucky in that we're well insured- I know all too well that the final liability for this fiasco is going to be most painful.

What next????

Actually I really don't want to know.

Daddy's service was actually lovely- Miles Davis, some preaching and I didn't lose my shit during the eulogy. Went back to Brother #2's house to spend the night and had planned on spreading Daddy's ashes in a particular spot on the Blue Ridge Parkway he loved- The entire tribe was up, fed and ready to roll.. And I'm telling you, herding cats is easier..

And then my cell rang. The Beast went in for emergency surgery this morning got a trio of perforations in his intestines patched back together. He's stable, but guarded.

Man this has been one seriously shitty week.

Here we go..

My thanks to you all for your kind thoughts, hugs and calls and emails of the past few days. Each and every one has helped make things easier. However, as my email server freaked on me totally I lost a few that I had yet to have had the time to reply to (Al, that was so very very dear- my response will have to wait until I can reconstruct)but I will get to it eventually.

Time to finish packing and hit the road in the morning. Be well dears, all your kind thoughts are packed in the bag with me for the trip south. And again, my thanks.

C'est fini..

The Old Fart slipped away fairly peacefully late yesterday afternoon. He hopefully felt no pain, and I was holding his hand- in theory I guess he's at peace, I can only hope that's the case.

This one's for you Daddy, I know it's one of your favorites since you loved Herbie and Miles so much.



See y'all later, I have to go plan a funeral..

Of all medical oxymorons..

I’ve always found “actively dying” to be the most peculiar, I do suppose it’s apt after a fashion however, as the body is actively trying to get it over and done with.

Daddy is in the last lap. Thankfully after pitching a fit, he’s comfortable and on enough morphine that he prayerfully doesn’t feel a thing. While I’m sad he’s sliding into that morphine induced comatose state for my brother’s sakes- I refuse to allow this to be painful for him, he’s had enough pain the past few years. While I have some small amount of guilt for being his own personal PCA (as Buddyboy aptly put it) I did tell them 4 days ago to get the hell up here if they had anything to say to him- the fact that they waited till now isn’t my fault. As both of them know I don't kid about that sort of thing and I surely don't make pronouncements of that nature unless I'm pretty damn sure I'm right..

My little break for my head is nearly over, and I have to go back to being the family pragmatist (bitch) and make with more phone calls and arrangements and such before I head back to the hospital.

Be well my dears, and call someone you love today just for the hell of it.