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Honey is Sweet Not an inspirational cripple story - 2009-11-08 I'm grateful for: friends and family; good books and silly books; my somewhat extensive music library. Feeling terribly sad. Sad about Lloyd - just everything. What a waste. Feeling sad about mother - ditto, with the added bonus that she is still alive, and still not willing or able to believe that change is even possible. Feeling sad about my little sister, the one whose birth certificate was given to me, who I saw lying in the box when she died, and never again. Coffin. The box was a coffin. I talked to RS for hours and hours today. Also talked with FB for maybe 3/4 of an hour, with MMF for fifteen minutes. I finally managed to write a letter to the poet who wrote to me after Lloyd died, whose poems made such a difference in my miserable life of almost twenty years ago. I was on the phone with D1 at least six separate times today as she was caught in a domestic 'situation.' Also talked briefly with her new SO and even more briefly with the new wife of my grandkids' father. It sounds like it was more than a too much excitement around there. I'm glad I was here for it. Okay, I wish I could've been there to help, but since I couldn't help, I'm glad I was well out of it. New wife got taken to the hospital (she has heart problems) and TH spent the evening after we said havdalah (ending shabbos) driving our next-door neighbour's daughter to the hospital in Ashkelon. I did make it out on the mirpesset this afternoon. TH brushed my hair out and I threw bread to the chickens - the goats being locked up. S2 and TH read aloud, TH is reading Wee Free Men to S3 and I. S2 is reading Anathem by Neal Stephenson. I enjoyed both greatly. I spent some time and cuddled with most of my kids at least for a little while today. I didn't get any knitting done, or reading on my own, but I did manage to work out a schedule for tomorrow, and arranged for TH to take the day off of work, and to try to order an ice cream cake for D3's birthday, which is next Sunday. I'm still basically bed-bound. Other than the one trip to the mirpesset, and a couple of trips to the bathroom, I've been in bed all day. My brains don't seem to be working at all, I am inarticulate and mute when asked a simple question. And yet - what a day I've had! I'm listening to Zero Mostel: Tradition from Fiddler on the Roof 0 bleats so far:: Yesterdays : Tomorrows ::
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