The Boxes Never, Ever Stop.

Today I started going through the boxes that KidTwo left when she moved. Some of the books she just doesn't need to keep, so I sent her an email asking permission to purge the extraneous ones; fingers crossed, she will say yes. That will be a big help. She left more boxes than I thought she did--there were twenty. I figure I can find room for about half the books in my room, reducing her number of actual boxes to under half a dozen if she lets me give away the books that are not worth hanging onto while she lives down south. My big goal is to get to the point where there are no more boxes in this apartment, none at all, except for seasonal items such as Christmas ornaments. The half dozen that KidTwo will have after I de-book the twenty boxes will go live under the table in my mother's office.

Today I spent seven good hours with LadyP. We took a walk to the park, passing a sign advertising a garage sale. She grinned at me and said she didn't need a garage, she already had one. After our walk, we went back to her home, where I read to her from a book of fairy tales. Then we did some puzzles. I found she can match the occasional piece more easily if I point out the dominant color on the piece and ask her if she can see another piece that has that same main color. We stick with puzzles with two dozen or fewer pieces, or she gets too confused. We also colored a bit; that was cute. After we had lunch, we took a nap, then sat in her backyard and played with the dog. Then another puzzle, then her husband came home.

KidThree and I took her friend, FriendK, to his friend's home. That poor kid. At least he got several days of clean clothes, hot showers, and plenty of food. I sent him off with toilet paper, soap, toothpaste, and deodorant, along with a few dollars. What lives these poor kids lead. No kid asks to be born to drug users and their inamorata of the moment. No kid deserves that. Every child deserves at least one adult who is always there, who can provide love and stability and security, along with food and toilet paper. Every child should have that and it breaks my heart that they don't. I wish I could win the Lotto so I could do more to help, at least for the kids who are still fighting to break free from the drug culture they were born into. At least I can provide respites.

Someone bought my Lotto house, so I had to find a new Lotto dream. To help get the wheels turning, I treated myself to a Lotto ticket--two whole dollars worth of permission to build castles in the air. Then I came across an empty lot on a street that I liked, so that is my new Lotto dream. It's even better than my former Lotto house, because now I can build my imaginary home from the ground up, making sure it is all completely accessible. That will give me something to do while riding around on buses or stuck in long lines at the credit union. All I need to do is spend a dollar every month or two on a ticket, and I can dream as much as I like. It's cheap at the price.

KidTwo posted a note where she told me that she was wearing a helmet when she rode that atv up that mountain. That did help. A little bit.

KidThree had a bad time last Wednesday. At group, she revealed her fears about testifying against her assailants. When she said she would be happy just to see her school after testifying, the social worker thought she was referring to the comfort of returning to her routine, so I had to tell him that she is terrified of being murdered, that she was referring to surviving, not stability. The young man whose Catholic funeral she attended a couple of weeks ago was murdered because he made statements against gang members when he disassociated himself from his gang--KidThree's fears aren't unreasonable. This all can't be over too soon for us; we just can't move forward with this hanging over our heads.

KidThree's classmate who died the end of June was planning to go with her when she testified, so instead she will wear to court the t-shirt she got in remembrance of him. It has on it his name and picture, and the dates of his birth and death. That way, he can be with her in spirit. When I suggested that to her today, she lit up at the thought. She'll also have the little Inca heart-gouger-outer dude, so she'll be surrounded by love and ferocity. And by me.

Time for bed now. Tomorrow is coming and I have to be ready.

A

Past the Hump.

This morning I spent several hours with LadyP. We did jigsaw puzzles and looked through a catalog. Today she was not interested in imaginary shopping but did enjoy the puzzles. One of them was just pairs of mother and baby animals: the object was to pair the piece with the mother to the piece with the baby. LadyP was able to match a couple of them unaided. When I had all the pieces out on the table, the number of choices was too overwhelming for her, but when I reduced the number of pairs to four or five, she was able to make a couple of matches. We also had a good walk to the park where we enjoyed watching several little boys and one little girl play that they were robots. The children had small traffic cones that they were 'wearing' on their arms to make their arms stiff and robotic. That was a lot of fun. LadyP had a good morning: she was alert and engaged almost the entire time.

After LadyP's, it was home for a nap, as I'd been up since four and was sleepy. While I was gone, KidOne came by to pick up her boxed belongings and to borrow my car to move some more boxes and recycling. KidTwo had a dozen or more boxes in KidOne's storage space, a storage space that KidOne is no longer renting, so KidOne brought those boxes here. I'll be going through them to see what needs to be sent to KidTwo, what should be saved here, and what can be given away. KidTwo had so little time to do her move that her belongings did not get properly sorted out. I love sorting, so I get the job. The things that are to be stored up here will go down to live under my mother's table in her office; she's already cleared space for them.

Tomorrow morning KidThree and I have a date with the wheelchair repair folks. We have to be forty minutes away from here by eight in the morning, not something that will be pleasant with a teenager. Fortunately, KidThree wants her own chair back even more than she wants that extra bit of sleep, so she is amenable to the time. The repair guys need to see what is wrong with the chair so they can order the needed parts; they'll also check to see if the chair needs adjusting for KidThree, now that she has been in it longer and is better at using it.

***Wheelchairs are sort of like bicycles: when someone is just starting in a chair, she gets the equivalent of fat tires, training wheels, and no gears. As she gets better at using her chair, she can progress until she is in the equivalent of a racing bike--sleek, light, and incredibly maneuverable. KidThree is at the stage where her training wheels have been taken off, but she still has the big fat tires.

KidThree's FriendK is still here. Tomorrow we take him to the home of a friend of his, a home where he will be staying. This evening I'll be doing his laundry; I'll also try to get to the sporting goods store to find him a duffle bag so he doesn't have to keep using plastic trash bags to carry his worldly goods.

The other job for this evening is to continue digging through the pile of 'stuff' in my room. If it wasn't for wanting to watch politics, I would be doing that right now. It feels so good to finally be dealing with that mess. Last night I was able to sleep in there for the first time in months. Of such small things is happiness built.

A

What a Lovely Day.

I got so much done in my bedroom. The only reason I stopped was that it was time to take KidThree to group, and even that I forgot--she had to call from school to find out why I hadn't come to pick her up. Oops. I got all the bookcases moved from one side of the room to the other (this mattered, really it did), which took forever. De-booking, moving bookcases, re-booking, over and over and over again. Then finding out that a bookcase hit an outlet in the wrong spot, then another one was one inch too close to the desk, and I had to do it all again. Finally all the bookcases were where they were supposed to go, and the books were back on the bookcases. Not in any discernible order, mind you, but they are on shelves. For now, that will have to do. I kept coming across odds and ends like odd socks, and a missing bra (I KNEW I had three bras that color!) and a shirt I had given up for lost, along with a box of goodies for NephewC and many, many things belonging to KidOne. KidOne's things are all in a box by the front door; I'll get them to her tomorrow afternoon when she comes to borrow my car to move boxes. NephewC's things will go down to the parents' house; he is living with his other grandmother right now and doesn't need the lovely black and white things I bought him for his kitchen, and my mother has some storage space in her office. Goodness only knows I have no storage space here. I got so much done in that room today, there may actually be room on the floor in there for my futon.

After group, KidThree and I went to pick up her friend, FriendK, and go to McDonald's for our Wednesday date. We met FriendK at a light rail station. I knew things might be problematic with him because he appeared to have his entire wardrobe in a garbage bag that had so many holes in it, I couldn't figure out how he hadn't lost half his clothes already. Sure enough, FriendK's mother had kicked him out that morning because he wouldn't let her sell his food stamps card to get drug money (for her, not for him). That poor kid. He has a friend who is going to let him come stay, but he had no money to get to that friend's home. FriendK will spend tonight and tomorrow here, then Friday I'll have time to take him to his friend's home and to a welfare office so he can apply for aid. After twelve years working for welfare departments, I speak fluent social worker and can help FriendK with the paperwork. In exchange for a day or two of room and board, FriendK gets to move the futon.

KidTwo's friend came by with the gifts she sent from down south. KidTwo is the best gift-chooser ever. She knew KidOne was trying to reduce her number of knick-knacks, so she sent KidOne a small wallhanging. She knew KidThree was going to have to testify shortly and was terrified of doing so, so she sent KidThree a little talisman, a miniaturization of a ceremonial 'weapon' used by the Inca to gouge the hearts out of their enemies. KidThree will wear it on a chain when she goes to court. For me, she sent a zippered tote bag/purse that is a beautifully woven rainbow of colors (I had asked for a bag only). Poor KidTwo's grandfather was sure that wasn't enough of a gift (it was!), so he sent a lovely shawl to keep me warm on my walks. The shawl is about the prettiest thing I've ever had. I may have to get a really snazzy outfit just to give me something to wear the shawl with; it would be serious overkill with my jeans. The grandparents down south also sent beautiful ponchos to the grandparents up here. I do have the loveliest in-laws. Yes, I divorced their son, but they kept me and I kept them; we didn't divorce.

A

Got Some More Stuff Done.

This morning I had a good time watching BabyJ for several hours; he is such a sweetheart. While we were outside walking around the block, we saw the little claw truck scooting around the street, picking up piles of clippings and trimmings, then putting it in the big truck. That was a lot of fun; we ended up following it for an entire block so we could keep watching it. When the two trucks left the block, BabyJ got cheerful good-bye waves from both the drivers. A little further on in our walk, BabyJ found a pine cone, then when he found several more, he had a hard time figuring out which pine cone he should keep. Sixteen months old, and already an analyst.

KidThree stayed home from school as she didn't feel well. When I got home after watching BabyJ, she was ready to be up and about, so she worked on math and I helped. After that, I went to her school to drop off the work she completed last night and to pick up two more assignments for this evening's homework session. KidThree is working on her schoolwork like she's never done before; it is wonderful to see. When I went to the school to drop off her work, two of the teachers made a point of telling me how hard KidThree has been working and what a treat she's been in class, cheerful and participating. I told them that was the KidThree I've known for years, and that it was about time she let other people know what a terrific kid she really is.

And then, I started working in my bedroom. We moved into this apartment last September--it has taken this long for me to get to work on my room. When we first moved in here, I was still working, and whatever time I had at home was used to try to make KidThree's room and the kitchen functional. Then KidFour showed up, and then KidOne showed up, and then KidOne's bed showed up, and my poor bedroom never got touched, other than to get more piles of stuff added as I moved things around, trying to fit everyone and everything in. But now, now, I got started in there. Oh my, it felt good. It felt marvelous. I got a good-sized spot of carpet cleared (picking up one thing and putting it away, throwing it away, recycling it, whatever), then got going moving the bookcases where they will stay for good. I kept coming across odd socks that had mates in the odd-sock box; that was fun. Yes, I know, it doesn't take much to amuse me. When both the bedrooms are completed cleared, whatever socks are still unmated will be tossed, but for now they live in their box, hoping their partners will be unearthed in my excavations. By this weekend, I should have enough space cleared to move the bed from the living room into my bedroom, then I'll actually be able to sleep in there. It's the little things that make a difference in life, like being able to walk across your bedroom floor and being able to sleep in your own bedroom every night.

Now I'm going back in there to do some more archaeology. If I didn't know the apartment was completely empty when we moved in, I'd think Jimmy Hoffa might be in there.

A

A Lovely Monday.

This morning was magical. The weather was perfect--cool enough outside that the blanket on my bed was just right. KidThree had a dentist appointment at ten, so we got to sleep in a little bit instead of getting up to go to school. I lay in bed listening to the morning traffic go by outside the window, gloating inside, "I'm in bed and you're not!" Then I got up and checked email and read the news on the computer. An item caught my eye about a lumber truck spilling its entire load and closing a freeway, but I didn't read the article as I'm no longer a commuter. I woke up KidThree to get ready for her appointment, then realized the closed freeway might get in the way of our trip to the dentist. I got back on the computer to read the actual article and, sure enough, the spill was just past where we would have gotten off that freeway, with the back-up miles long, right on our route. So, no trip to the dentist. I called the office to tell them we couldn't make it because of the freeway closure, then looked around here to see what I could get done with the free morning.

KidThree's room was it. Yesterday turned out to be busier than I expected with homework and such, so I hadn't gotten much done in there. This morning, though, I was all business. The entire closet is now a masterpiece of organization. In fact, I hijacked KidThree on her way to clean her teeth and made her admire it, prompting her, "now isn't that a masterpiece of organization?" She agreed that it was, indeed, a masterpiece of organization. Seriously, it looks good. All her medical supplies are put away, the extra bookcase from the living room is in there (it used to have The Frogs' tank on it), a cabinet for her miscellaneous things is in there, and all her hanging clothes are put away. It may not sound like much, but that was a job that needed doing. Then I got her bureaus moved to where they need to be, and re-did the drawers while I was at it. The room isn't finished--it still has my futon and an odd cabinet or two taking up floor space--but it is well on the way to finished and functional for KidThree.

I do so crave organization. Felix Unger I'm not, but more than minor disorder hurts my soul. It makes me feel constricted and trapped and non-functional. Order is good. It is good to have homes for things, and things in those homes. It is wonderful to need something and know immediately where it is, because it has a place and is in that place. I haven't gotten to that point yet in this apartment because of the combination of the influx of bodies and the slow learning curve related to learning how to manage accessibility. Now, though, extraneous bodies are gone, their associated possessions and critters are gone, and KidThree has been in the chair long enough that I am practiced at figuring out how to arrange things so that she has maximum access. We are close enough to Complete Orderliness that I can taste it.

This afternoon I stayed with LadyP for several hours. This was one of her good days, where she could expand on one of her usual memories, adding details that are usually missing. There were several catalogs on a counter; we had a good time going through them, deciding which items we liked and which we didn't. Good girl-talk stuff. I have a mail-order jewelry catalog in the recycling that I'll fish out and take to LadyP's on my Thursday visit. She'll like going through that one. I'll bring a couple of simple jigsaw puzzles, too; she likes those.

Update on my "Don't Block the Walk" column that appeared in our local paper last Thursday: Today, when taking KidThree to school, we passed a corner where the homeowner has an absolutely beautiful growth of morning glories along the edge of his property, morning glories that unfortunately have run across the sidewalk almost to the curb. The sidewalk there has been impassable because of the wild growth. Today, however, the morning glories were cut back to the edge of the property, leaving the sidewalk clear. It looked like the work was just done this morning, as the sidewalk did have a bit of debris on it and the piles of trimmings were still right there in the street. It might be just a coincidence, but, what the heck, I'm giving my column the credit. And just before sitting down to write this blog entry, I sent off a letter to the editor to tell that homeowner thank you.

That is it for today. Homework help is now 'In.'

A

Another Week, Another Death.

Several days ago, a nineteen-year-old young man was shot and killed by a homeowner when trying to break into that man's home. The homeowner saw the gun the young man carried and fired his own gun to protect his pregnant wife and two preschool-age children; he then ran out into the street, devastated, traumatized, hysterical. The poor man. He didn't want to kill anyone, but he needed to protect his family.

Of course, KidThree knew the young man. He was the grandson of her godmother, a woman who has already lost a son to street violence. This grandson was totally in the wrong, his actions indefensible, but that doesn't make his loss any less tragic or painful for his family. I've met the godmother--she is a lovely, lovely woman with an equally lovely husband. When KidThree was shot, this woman took immediate action, organizing a fundraiser at KidThree's former elementary school; she then took the money raised to shop for things that KidThree would need while in the hospital and presented them to KidThree. This godmother is a wonderful, churchgoing, law-abiding woman in a stable marriage, but she and her husband still couldn't keep their one son safe or this grandson on the right path. Obama had better get elected; we need him as president to show little black boys and young black men that they do have hope, they do have choices, they can make a positive difference. Trusted adults can't do it alone, not in the face of all the negatives the kids are getting.

KidThree asked me if I had ever felt like people were dying all around me. I told her I hadn't, but she wasn't imagining things, as kids really were dying all around her. KidThree is having trouble processing that amount of life lost with the idea that life is precious. Her poor soul is being sorely battered these days.

Sigh.

KidTwo finally posted about the theft in Otavalo. She did preface the description of the incident with "mama, you're not going to like this one bit," and of course I didn't, but it really was just things taken from her purse. The part I didn't like was when she and FriendS confronted the thieves a bit later. Too dangerous, Kids! Not worth it. KidTwo lost an irreplaceable notebook and FriendS lost a camera belonging to his father. Ouch. The notebook is a real loss, given the memories and information it contained, but cameras can be replaced. KidTwo and FriendS weren't hurt, which is really all that counts. It's nice, too, that they lost no money and no government documentation, but the important thing is that they were both okay. And now they will be that much more vigilant when out and about in unfamiliar places. FriendS returned to the states two days ago; KidTwo will miss him.

KidOne came and got her last two tanks (SnakeJ and The Frogs) yesterday and fixed up an empty tank for KidThree's SnakeQ, as SnakeQ had outgrown his last previous tank. That tank is now home to an as-yet-unnamed baby snake fathered by SnakeJ. KidThree is still working on a name for that one. The nice thing about having KidOne's last two tanks gone is that one of them was taking space on my bedroom floor, making it difficult to move things around too much (I didn't want to trip over it and set SnakeJ loose in that mass of clutter), and the other was on a bookcase I wanted to move into KidThree's room.

KidOne went to the nearby Reptile Show yesterday; she makes that pilgrimage every year. This year she was unaccompanied, always a dangerous thing for her at reptile shows, but she managed to hold herself to just one impulse buy. Given her love of all things reptilian and amphibian, it could have been much, much worse. I dread the day she succumbs somewhere to the cuteness of a baby Komodo dragon or decides to be a foster parent to a misunderstood anaconda.

My job around home today is to get KidThree's room arranged, as now all the pieces that needed to be gone are gone and all the things that needed to be moved around can be moved around. I can do that while she works on her homework. In addition to fixing up KidThree's room, I have some cooking to do: macaroni and cheese for the freezer, the revamped potato kugel, and another potato thing with smoked mozzarella and prosciutto. The weather is cool, we have no place we need to be, and there are no errands that need to be done. It will be a good at-home day.

Last night I babysat MissA and her brother, LittleJ, while their parents went out to dinner. In her email to me, their mother had said that LittleJ was talking more; I looked forward to hearing that and was hoping that my concerns about possible autism would just be my misreading of things. Uh uh. What a night. Going over there is difficult for me--I enjoy the heck out of MissA's company and she so obviously enjoys my attention and books, but LittleJ is draining. He was alarmed when he first saw me and headed to his mother for comfort. She took him upstairs for a bit while she finished getting ready, then came down with him and the parents headed out.

LittleJ was okay for about twenty minutes, then he started in. Crying and roaring, "maamaaaaa," inconsolably at the top of his voice. This went on for about thirty minutes. Then it was time for the kids to have their bath. LittleJ stopped his roaring while in the bathroom and, after a few minutes in the tub with MissA, started to have fun splashing around. He continued to be okay through getting dried off and dressed in pajamas, then played quietly on his bedroom floor while MissA and I sat in the rocker in there and read stories. Then MissA put on a cd of lullabies for LittleJ and he hopped right into bed. MissA and I went into her room, where I read several more stories while she cleared up her closet floor, hanging up the clean clothes that were scattered all over. She went to bed after that, then LittleJ started up again. Crying, roaring, "maaaamaaaaaaa" at the top of his heartbroken voice, over and over and over again. He kept getting out of bed, trying to get into MissA's room (where she most definitely did not want him to be), trying to get to his parents' bedroom, trying to go downstairs. This went on for an hour, until I heard the garage door open and was able to get across to LittleJ that his parents were home. He was still snuffling a bit when they came in.

I still think this little dude is not okay. I did hear him say a couple of almost inarticulate 'words,' but that was it for speech. He definitely avoided eye contact with me, and played entirely on his own when not roaring for his mother, ignoring whatever MissA and I might be doing. And the never-ending roaring for maaamaaaaa--that is just not ordinary behavior. Not to that extent, or for that long, or that consistently. LittleJ is going to have a tough time in this cold, cold world.

I earned $40 from that session and every penny of it was gone by the time I got home. The gas tank was on empty, so there went the first twenty, then I stopped at the grocery store to get a little bit of meat and some fruit, salad dressing, potatoes, and napkins, and there went the other twenty, plus another couple of dollars.

Prior to that babysitting, I spent the day at the Senior Center with the old folks. We had a particularly nice group of volunteers to help with just the few clients who came; two of our most active clients were off at an event at another center they attend. We had a visiting couple spend the day with us. What happens there is that someone will get a referral to our program, then they and the cognitively-impaired senior they care for come in to spend a day to see how our program works. We spend that day getting to know the prospective client and to show the caregiver how our program works. This particular pair was a husband and wife, with the husband having Alzheimer's. His condition was not terribly advanced, just enough so we could be of real help. He had a very dour exterior but after a little bit I worked out how to get around that and had a good time with him, introducing him to some board games and jigsaw puzzles. He liked the jigsaw puzzles, having previously had no experience at all with them. I think his wife will bring him back. She won't stay on subsequent visits, but instead will use the time to get some rest or run some errands or do some other thing she can't do while caring for him.

Tomorrow pre-trial motions start.

A

Another Week Closer to Solvency.

Today was a lovely day from start to finish. KidThree had a bit of a triumph at school. She got nominated (by teachers!) to be one of two student representatives who assist the school staff in deciding how funds for the school are spent and help with some other issues relating to the students. She was so thrilled! For so long, personnel at her various schools have looked at her as a 'problem child'; she is a little confused now at being considered someone with something valuable to contribute. She likes the feeling, but definitely isn't accustomed to it. KidThree is more comfortable being treated as a problem, as she knows how to respond to that attitude. Approval from someone other than her grandmother and me is taking her some time to get used to. As for me, I am having so much fun sitting back and watching all of this--I always knew this terrific girl was hidden inside that hostile exterior and am having a wonderful time watching the rest of the world learn the truth about my lovely, intelligent, talented girl.

This morning I watched BabyJ. We went for a walk around the block so BabyJ could explore his little world. He played with rocks and sand and bark along the way, and had a wonderful time running back and forth on the curb cuts. At one point, he took a couple of pieces of bark from a decorative border, then I told him to put them back. He thought for a minute, then carefully put the two pieces back where he got them. Then he just as carefully picked up two other pieces of bark that had also gotten on the wrong side and put them back where they belonged. After that, he picked up a leaf. After contemplating the leaf for a minute, he apparently decided it was not the same category as bark and could go right back on the sidewalk where he found it. I do so love watching the wheels in his head turn as he works out for himself how and where and why things should be.

After lunch, I took BabyJ on a longer walk, this time with the stroller. We stopped at the firehouse to ask for another firefighter's hat, as his old one had gotten torn. The folks at the firehouse are so lovely. There was an older man there, also named J, who had a good time playing with the hats with BabyJ. BabyJ got two hats this visit, and a junior firefighter sticker. Then BabyJ and I headed off to a nearby playground, where he found some toys in the sand and began playing with them. Another little boy, about age four, came over to us, saying, "excuse me, excuse me, excuse me, um, um, I think those are mine!" I told him that it was very nice of him to let BabyJ play with them, which nonplussed him for a moment. He said something else, to which I responded, "I'll make sure he takes good care of them." At that, the little boy relaxed, grinned, and shouted, "thank you, your highness!" Oh but that was funny. His mama, sitting off a little with another woman, laughed and laughed, as did I. I told his mama that I had tried to be incognito but the little guy blew my cover.

A little later, that same little boy asked another boy if he could play with one of the other boy's trucks, but the other boy wouldn't share. The first little boy got distressed at this and didn't quite know what to do. So, I asked him if he would like a fire hat. His face brightened up but he was a little puzzled, as he didn't see any fire hats around. I went over to BabyJ's stroller and got one of the two new fire hats and gave it to the little guy, at which he grinned broadly and happily put it on his head, then headed over to show the boy who wouldn't share. Maybe next time, that second little boy will share. It's never too early to learn that karma will always get you in the end.

KidTwo texted a little bit yesterday from down south. My next cell phone bill will probably be stratospheric, because I was happy to hear from her and texted back and forth with her for a few minutes. My plan comes with unlimited texting, but somehow I'm sure the fine print excludes texts to another continent.

Tomorrow is a Senior Center day, then in the evening I'm going to watch MissA and her brother. I haven't seen them in several months and was almost at the point of emailing their parents to find out if I should bring their carseats back (I have a car seat from them for each child, for those days when I'd pick them up from school). The mother's email said the boy was starting to talk more; I look forward to hearing that. It will be interesting to see if he still makes me think 'autism' when I watch him play. I'll be at home for two hours between the Senior Center and babysitting, so I'll get a little time with KidThree.

Two weeks until the babies.

A

Thursday, Part Two.

Our ADA called: the trial is on. All are ready and we have a courtroom assigned. There's no court business done on Fridays, so the pre-trial motions will begin Monday, then jury selection, then opening arguments, then KidThree testifies. It's entirely possible that she'll need to testify the first day I'm supposed to have the twins. Oh well, I did make sure the twins' parents knew that was a possibility and we'll deal with it if that is how it all shakes out. At least we know the darned thing is going to start, which in turn means that eventually it will be over.

My article appeared in the local paper today. Mom wants a copy. Uh oh. I think I can come up with a quarter to buy a paper, but that means I have to get up and go out. Shoot. I forgot she would want a copy. The copy here is for KidThree's scrapbook.

I figured out where CousinP's new son got his first name: from the park where CousinP and his wife married. Now I just have to find out where that middle name came from, then my nosy cousin-self can rest easy. The need to know just niggles. . . .

This afternoon I got lots of administrative things done, the most important of which was to make sure that the wheelchair place had all the info they needed to get the process underway to get the needed repairs approved. Thank goodness. Of course, our 'luck' continues: tomorrow the wheelchair company is relocating their entire facility. What do you want to bet our paperwork is the file that gets lost in the shuffle? Not to mention there is the possibility that Medi-Cal won't approve anything anyway because our blasted state is still without a budget, this for the longest time yet that we've been in this same situation. Stupid super-majority requirement. Stupid ideologues. Stupid country without single-payer healthcare, or at least healthcare that actually works for the least among us.

This morning I had a good time with LadyP. She has about five memories that run on a loop in her mind and says those few items over and over and over again, with no awareness that she is repeating and repeating. Today, however, she mentioned a memory that I haven't heard before and was very clear in her description of that memory. She also indicated an awareness of her husband's absence, which was unusual; most of the time, she is confused by his absence. Sometimes that sort of thing happens with Alzheimer's--a day will happen where the person seems to have a few more functioning synapses or something. I'm glad I got to share part of this day with LadyP.

Tomorrow I get to spend the day with BabyJ. That will be wonderful, as the weather has broken so that I'll be able to take BabyJ out on a good long walk. He loves to be outside and to watch cars and trucks go by, and I love to walk and to watch him watch the world. Just not in the heat.

The weather continues to be wonderful. I've had the windows open for three days now and have slept with a blanket for the past two nights. I can feel myself waking up, coming back to life. All summer, once the real heat sets in, I'm in whatever the state is that is the opposite of hibernation. It's like somnambulism or something. There must be a word for that and someday I'll find it.

Now off to go buy my mother a newspaper.

A

Another Thursday.

KidTwo FINALLY put up a short little note on her livejournal but it wasn't the sort of short little note to ease her mama's mind. She wrote of having stuff 'jacked' in Otavalo, going up a mountain in an ATV, and riding a horse on that same mountain. She did include a 'sorry mom' after the ATV entry; that hardly helps. It takes nerves of steel to be KidTwo's mother.

KidOne's bureau and computer left home yesterday. There is still a clothing rack in the kitchen, which is more than a little odd, but that should leave home today. Then she has only small things and the apartment is mine once again! Okay, I am sharing it with KidThree, but she has her own room.

No news from our ADA on whether the trial started. I'll give him a call today to find out how (or if) things are moving along.

CousinP sent out three photos already. Thank goodness for computer-literate relatives. The baby is beautiful--looks like mama from the front and from daddy in profile. His poor parents look almost too exhausted to be happy; I hope they've gotten some good sleep since.

That is it for this morning. Right now I have to go pry KidThree out of bed, then I go watch LadyP. After LadyP, I get to set things aright in the bedrooms!

A

Unusual Late Entry.

CousinP's baby is here--a baby boy with an interesting name. I'll be sure to ask the whys and wherefores of the name after the parents get some sleep. I'm glad he's here safely and glad the happy pair got a boy to go with their girl.

This afternoon KidThree and I went to see "The Dark Knight." That's not the sort of movie I'm usually interested in seeing, as I go more for plot and character and good acting, but I did want to see Heath Ledger as the Joker.' Aside from the Joker, which was as good a characterization as I'd read, that was about the dumbest movie I've seen in ages. I think it was probably one of the dumbest movies I've seen since I walked out on one of the later Superman sequels, both of which Christopher Reeve had the good grace to apologize for in one of his memoirs. After the first half an hour or so, it was hard just to stay in my seat. The things I do for my kids. Okay, it was for my own curiosity, too. I admit that, reluctantly and shamefacedly. The plot, what there was of it, was indescribably stupid--none of that could possibly have happened. Oh well, now I've seen it and will know not to go to another movie like that for another twenty-five years. And yes, Heath Ledger's performance was that good, just wasted in that stupid movie.

KidThree is working on her algebra homework and I'm happily helping, as algebra makes sense and after watching that movie, I need something to make sense or I won't be able to sleep tonight. My mind needs things to make sense in order to relax. Thank goodness for the inherent sense and logic in numbers.

There is a house here in town that I lust after; it's my Lotto house. Tomorrow I'll have to buy a Lotto ticket so I can continue to dream about that house. If I don't buy a ticket now and again, I don't get to dream about buying and decorating and living in the house--the tickets are the price of the dream. The house has one of the nicest ramps in town and is in a good location for us. Yes, of course I know I'll never have the house, but dreaming is fun and gives me something to do in my head. I do love my Lotto dreams!

And now to bed. Pity about the money spent on the movie. At least it was Tuesday, when all movies cost 'only' four-fifty.

A

It's Cool Outside!

If I could sing, I would sing that--the weather has changed, it's cool outside. I've had the windows open all night and it feels wonderful in here. At one point during the night, I had to get up to go get a blanket. A blanket! You know the weather has changed when I have to get a blanket to be able to sleep comfortably. And joy of joys, I'm not working today. Truly, my cup runneth over. Cool weather, a day off, and the bed gone from my bedroom. I'm going to get my bedroom back, I'm going to get my bedroom back, I'm going to get my bedroom back! Yes, I love my daughters more than anything in this world, and they are each and every one of them more important than all the bedrooms and all the privacy in all the world, but I'm greedy--I want my lovely girls AND privacy. Coffee, then a shower, and then time to get to work.

Family drama: CousinP's wife was due two weeks ago. This baby apparently got wind of what a cold, cruel world it can be and decided it didn't want to join us. Finally, things started to happen yesterday, but as of right now there is no more news. Even once things got moving, that baby didn't want to cooperate. I hope all is well. CousinP is only a year younger than I, but waited much longer to start a family. He and his wife have a two-year-old and then this baby. The thought of starting out at our age is mind-blowing to me--I'm so glad to be so close to finished with all that--but that is the way CousinP's life has worked out.

KidThree continues to work at her schoolwork like I've not seen for ages. Thank goodness for developing maturity and determination. She spent three or four hours on homework last night, with me available for the second half of that to help with the algebra. Math is easy to help with because it doesn't change with the years and has no fashion. It just IS. Thirty years after my high school, you still have to combine like terms and isolate variables and then determine the value of x.

No news still from KidTwo. She had better get to an internet cafe soon. I'm finding myself checking the international news to make sure there is nothing unsettling going on in that country. So far, all seems calm, but I had better hear something soon or I'll embarrass the heck out of her by contacting the embassy. Another relative, CousinS, has worked for the state department for years and years and taught me how to use the embassies back when KidOne and KidTwo were children and traveling alone internationally. Cousins can be such useful people sometimes.

In all seriousness, I am sure KidTwo is fine--she is surrounded by enormous numbers of relatives, most of whom know her personally and all of whom know her by sight (she does stand out a bit down there). I just want to hear her voice, in my ear or in print. Withdrawals are starting to set in. I wonder if CousinP fully understands what is in store for him in the years to come? He can't. No one can ever truly understand until they've lived it. CousinP, your life is over and the life you are living now is ruled by your children. When they are fine, you will be fine, and when they aren't, you aren't. The Borg has got you now. Surrender peacefully, it hurts less.

That is it for this morning. One more cup of coffee to refuel the tank and then I'm off. The bedroom awaits.

A

Ding, Dong, the Bed Is Gone,

The Great Big Bed, the Queen-Sized Bed; Ding, Dong, the Big Old Bed Is Gone!

Yesterday KidThree and I went to visit the parents. The point of the visit was ostensibly to share the dvd from the gym, but it didn't work. We got sound, but no picture. Blast. Dad had just bought a machine to record his videos onto dvd's and had that machine still in the box on the kitchen table. He gestured to it helplessly, "the dvd will play on that!" Next time we visit, he'll have that hooked up and we can watch the dvd.

We had a good visit. KidThree sat out in the family room with Grandpa, while Mom and I went in their bedroom to yak. While we were in there, SisterD called; then we had a good conversation using the speaker phone. She'll be at a medical conference in San Francisco next month and may have a day or at least a few hours free where wandering family members can go visit her.

On the freeway coming home, we ran into a traffic slow-down at an unusual place. After crawling along for a little bit, we noticed a lot of stuff on the freeway. At first glance, it looked like we were headed into lanes that were covered with glass, but there was so much of it--if it were glass, an entire glass truck must have exploded. When we got into the actual debris, I was going slowly enough to be able to look down and see just what it was--it was feathers! The entire freeway was covered with feathers. Feathers floating everywhere, across all four lanes, extending at least a quarter of a mile, if not more. Goodness only knows what did explode there--a truck full of chickens? A pillow factory? Someone or someplace somewhere is missing an awful lot of feathers.

When KidThree and I got back home and pulled into the parking lot, there we saw a big pick-up truck with The Bed in the back. KidOne was coming out of the apartment with a handful of clothing on hangers. I knew she was going to start moving some boxes and things (yesterday was the day her rental became available to her), but had no idea how much stuff she and her boyfriend would get done. They are going to be seriously sore today, especially him, as he just had a cast removed two days ago (he had broken his hand).

My bedroom looks wonderful. There are still piles and piles of stuff, but there is also a big bed-sized space of clear carpet visible, something that hasn't been the case almost since we moved in here. The minute the weather changes, I'm in there to clear it all out. My dream situation is a place for everything and everything in its place, something I've achieved thus far only in the kitchen, but now that KidOne's things are going to be gone, the rest of the apartment will get organized if it knows what's good for it. Thank goodness the weather should be cooling off soon--I want to get the bedrooms fixed up, once and for all. The clutter has been driving me bananas. There shouldn't be any more wandering offspring or other relations needing a place to stay, at least not any time soon, so things should get straightened out and stay that way.

This morning I watch LadyP for three hours, then I'll come home to take a nap until KidThree is due home from school. I woke up just after three this morning, early even for this extreme early bird, and couldn't get back to sleep.

I'm not doing well with the online dating. It was so much easier when I was younger. Of course, then I was in the Navy, with nine men for every one woman, and I was a lot cuter. Still, it wasn't all terrific. The military in the late seventies and early eighties was absolutely awash with drugs and other bad behavior, and yours truly as a Good Catholic Girl didn't fit in at all, something that became apparent to the guys after just a little while. Asking my date at a movie why he just dropped a piece of paper in his soda, "oh, it's acid; you want some?" "No." Me at a party, seeing something in the corner of the room that I just couldn't quite figure out, "what's that?" "Oh, that's hash; want some?" "No." And then telling my date, after he had paid thirty-five cents for my on-base movie ticket, "no, I'm not, you'd pay a prostitute more than thirty-five cents." (He was quite insulted.) A few conversations like that and it got around that I wasn't going to drop my pants just because some cute young sailor dropped a dime and a quarter on me, and that sort left me alone. But there were still plenty of young men who preferred a girl who behaved herself, one of whom I eventually married.

I'm trying to look at things as an observer: Okay, I'm not pretty. But I don't think I'm ugly, either, I'm just ordinary. I have a pleasant, friendly face. No make-up. Hmm. My mother doesn't wear make-up and SisterC and SisterD don't wear make-up, but SisterL does. Hmm, again. Nope. I don't want a date badly enough to put on make-up. My face will stay naked. And if I am ugly, I don't want to know it.

I am overweight; I'd like to take off twenty-five pounds. Maybe when the weather cools off. The weight drops off easiest when I'm active and over the summer, I hide from anything remotely resembling activity. For now, the extra padding is staying.

Too busy with KidThree? That situation isn't going to change any time soon, but I'm no busier than most other mothers. It's just that I gave up my job outside the home and now spend the same amount of time working inside the home, or taking KidThree hither and yon. Nope, KidThree isn't going anywhere, and she has priority over my love life (or lack thereof).

Lack of money? That is off-putting. I wouldn't like it in a man, at least not without a darned good reason, but then, I do have a darned good reason. If a man had the same sort of catastrophic event in his family, I would certainly expect and support his spending every dime to take care of his child. Nope, I can't fix the lack of money. It will get better in October, but even then I won't be flush with discretionary income, just solvent and doing better little by little. Drat.

I just don't know. At least I'm used to being on my own and enjoy my own company, most of the time, anyway. I think what I'll do is keep at this a little while longer and then re-evaluate at the end of my paid-up time. And I have a library card and a blockbuster membership, both of which get me outside of this apartment and this town and this state. Thank goodness imaginations are free.

A

My Sundays Are Okay Again.

The Saturday New York Times crossword puzzle is in the local paper this morning. I can function again. Earthquake damage fully repaired. Frayed nerves re-knit. Orange alert cancelled. Thank goodness. I can handle this blasted poverty for another month as long as my support structures are firmly in place, and the Thursday through Saturday New York Times crossword puzzles are integral parts of my support system.

Yesterday I confessed to KidThree that I had put an ad on match.com, this because I needed help uploading photos. She was very pleased and helped me put up two from her cell phone camera. Of course, since the photos were on her cell phone, they were her view of me, but they were all that were available that were recent. Maybe today I can have her take some more to see if we can get a couple of good ones. KidThree didn't snicker, either; she has thought for some time that I should be out on the market, that I am a good deal for someone. When we went to the 'No on Eight' meeting, a woman talked to us a minute about a question I had and then later KidThree told me that the woman had sat down next to me and appeared interested. I hadn't even noticed. KidThree was so laughingly frustrated that I hadn't noticed the woman's interest and figured that must be why I have had such a long dry spell--I'm just oblivious. And, not gay. Oh well. Maybe someday.

Today we're going down to the parents' to show them the dvd from the gym. KidThree is very anxious to show them what she learned and to make sure they know their money went to a good cause. We haven't watched the dvd yet; we'll see it for the first time down there.

And I will get a Straw Hat Pizza, large pepperoni, extra toasted, along the way!

Yesterday online I found an article that listed by number how many jabs the candidates took at each other in their speeches and it shows a relatively equal number for both parties. I think my objectivity is less than robust, or maybe the jabs by Palin were just meaner. There was a comment to that effect in the article. Her jabs seemed more contemptuous than humorously mocking. Hmm. Now she is being panned by the liberal channel I watch for having implied she sold the Alaska governor's private jet on eBay when she had actually sold it through a broker. I went back and read the transcript of her speech (because I thought she had said 'put it on eBay,' not 'sold it on eBay') and sure enough, she had said 'put it on eBay.' Apparently it was listed on eBay several times but didn't sell, thus the sale through the broker. So, that one was not a lie on her part. Splitting hairs, okay, but not a lie. However, then McCain has said 'sold it on eBay' and 'made a profit,' both of which are demonstrably not true. I worry for our country if he gets elected to the presidency; he seems to miss so many nuances. The devil is in the details and waiting to bite. I can't imagine Obama or Biden allowing minutiae like that to get past them.

I found another article written by someone of Indian descent that discussed the McCains' essential sequestering of their youngest daughter (adopted from Bangladesh) and the way they introduced her to the public at the convention. The reporter wrote approvingly of the obvious love the family had for their daughter, but questioned the way her backstory was milked for political purposes. I have wondered for some time about the lack of mention of this daughter. Several times I've seen McCain mention his family, listing some by name, but never, ever this youngest, and in photos of the family I've never seen this daughter. Not having her in the photos would not be that noticeable if her absence was explained ('so-and-so was off at school' or something), but she wasn't mentioned--it was almost as though she didn't exist. I hope the McCains don't continue to emphasize the girl's backstory but instead just focus on the wonder and blessing that is their daughter.

It is still hot. Hot, hot, hot. I hate the heat. We have been so relatively lucky this summer, with so few really hot spells, until last month. Then all the heat that hadn't shown up earlier in the season landed on us with a vengeance. I want it to end. Our little air conditioner keeps things tolerable in here, but my oh my it is not the same as as central air. The cool weather can't come soon enough for me. Fall is so wonderful--I love to go driving around, exploring, or just walking around, enjoying the weather. Cool, good. Cold, good. Damp and gray, good. Roasting and sweating and sweltering, BAD.

I'm watching the news right now, where they are showing the projected path of Hurricane Ike. And people worry about earthquakes? People are nuts. Give me an earthquake over a hurricane any day. Follow the building codes. Fasten your water heater and paintings to the walls. Have a safe place and escape plan ready. And stay off bridges.

Yesterday I played in the kitchen, goodness only knows why; it is still much too hot. I've been reading a cookbook about pizzas and savory pies and made a potato kugel from a recipe in it. It was basically a baked potato pancake held together with a binding of egg, milk, and yogurt. It was okay, but not terrific. I think it needs to be thinner, and the potatoes softer, and maybe some flavor added--I'm thinking dill. Next time I'll try it with those alterations and see how it is.

Last night another of KidThree's acquaintances was shot. No news yet as to whether he survived or the extent of his injuries if he did. Sigh.

A

Hello, Self.

Saturday morning and nowhere that I have to get to today--what a lovely feeling. The water is on for my second cup of coffee, KidOne and KidThree are asleep, so the apartment is all mine, figuratively speaking. I do so love peace and quiet. Today I do want to get to the library, as I've finished all my library books and need a new batch, but that is a want, not a need, and if I'd rather stay here and vegetate, I can! (Of course I probably won't, there aren't many calls stronger than that of unread books, but the important thing is that I have the choice.)

Yesterday I talked to BabyJ's mother about not being able to continue watching BabyJ on Fridays after this month. Luckily for me, she had remembered that I had told her some time back about having committed to the twins' care beginning in October, so she wasn't too surprised. They will continue to call me for weekends and such. I hope they go out to lots of weekend matinees so I can see BabyJ often or I may go into withdrawals.

We had a lovely time together yesterday morning. We got to wave to the garbargeman twice, as he came back up the street enroute to someplace else after emptying the cans on our side of the street, and we got to see some men stop a rental truck and re-arrange their goods in the back (it looked like something had shifted, causing them to pull over), and, best of all, we got to watch some workers cutting down a tree and chipping up the branches. BabyJ and I visited with one of the men while he was working on the woodchipper (not running it, just tinkering with the engine); he told BabyJ to stay in school! When he was ready to run the machine, we retreated to the other side of the street and sat down, then watched happily as the tree's remains got all chopped up.

Later BabyJ and I took a little walk to explore the neighborhood. At one point, he was bending over to examine some tanbark, but when he went to stand up, he got mixed up. He forgot to bring his head and body vertical before straightening out his legs, so when he straightened his legs to stand, the weight of his head (looking down at the bark) pulled him right over; he landed face-first in the bark. He was so surprised that the bark bit him like that! I scooped him up and brushed off his face, all the while watching the slow motion start to his roar of pain at the inequities of the world. He calmed down right away, as he hadn't really been hurt, just shocked and dismayed and wounded at the unfriendliness of tanbark.

Next week KidOne's rental will be all ready for her to move in. I get my bedroom floor back! KidOne I will seriously miss, but it will be fun to get to FINALLY finish putting this apartment together, only a year after having moved in. I am so set and ready to do that, it isn't funny. A friend of KidThree's is all booked to come and help me move bookcases and other furniture around--I am just itching to get all that done. And it's not like KidOne is heading off to foreign climes, she's just going a couple of miles away within town here.

KidTwo has not posted any photos of her trip yet. KidTwo, get going--your mother needs pictures. She did call a couple of days ago--it was so good to hear her laughing voice. Things are going well down there with all the relatives, and she had no trouble meeting her FriendS at the airport (he is visiting down there with her for about ten days). Relatives there have sent many greetings up this way, and I've sent as many back. Now I need KidTwo to have a visit there after October, when I am solvent, so I can send gifts, too. Not just to the grandparents, but to a cousin who has always acted as the southern mother to my lovely girlies when they are down there. Someday I hope to return the favor with her girls, if they can ever get visas to come visit us.

Our ADA called yesterday. Everything should start on Tuesday, with KidThree having to testify the following week. It seems hardly possible that this blasted trial will ever happen, continued as it has been so many times, so I'm not holding my breath. Time only will tell.

KidThree asked if I was done watching politics now. Oh the sweet optimism of youth! No dearie, those were only the primaries--now the real fun starts. I explained all to her, so she knows what is in store for her the next couple of months.

Soon will come October and the babies and, with them, solvency. What a relief that will be.

A

Another Week Successfully Lived Through, Mostly.

John McCain did a much better job with his speech yesterday than I thought he would. The first part was as anemic as everything else he's said, so much so that at one point I lost all ability to track what he was saying, but then he seemed to catch fire and actually got passionate for a few minutes. It was quite impressive; I hope he recovers. But, he gave no specifics. None. He will bring "change," and "reform," but not a word about what sort of change or reform. I'm also seriously tired of the argument that his suffering as a prisoner of war somehow makes him qualified to be president, or that it makes him a better person than his opponent. It does show his character and personal strength and love of country, important things to know about our political candidates, but it doesn't bestow upon him the ability or judgment to deal with domestic or foreign affairs or give him a "Get Out of Jail Free" pass, which is what he's claiming. And he gave no specifics at all as to how he would be different from the current Republican administration or just what change he would bring about.

Cindy McCain also gave a good speech. This was the first time I'd heard her speak, and I was pleasantly surprised. Why haven't the campaign folks let her talk before? She did a good job, and I found her biography impressive, too, with her emphasis on public service. The disconnect in her speech, for me, was the way she spoke of John McCain as a husband, father, and public servant; it was hard for me to relate those words to the tightly controlled man currently on the campaign trail. There must be more to him than his campaign is allowing us to see.

As far as the convention itself, it just made me mad. The Republicans have made a choice to appeal to emotions, not intellect, and their presentations showed it. They did a presentation on terrorism that conflated different attacks and different groups into one evil, monolithic entity out to destroy us, and that just isn't the case. There are different groups with different goals and different methods. And as far as considering this a 'war,' huh. It isn't a war. Clinton had it right when he responded to attacks with law enforcement, not tanks. And the Republicans again conflated Al Qaeda and Bin Laden with Iraq and Saddam Hussein. Not the same people, not at all, not by any stretch of the imagination, not in this lifetime. Not, not, not. Iraq didn't present a Clear and Present Danger to the United States. Nasty man? Yes. Despot? Yes. Would be happy to do bad things to the U.S.? Quite probably. But there are many like that around the world and we haven't attacked them. We don't get to attack for Nasty Despotism.

Okay, I'll shut up. It just makes me so mad, watching people be manipulated like that and knowing that so many are swallowing that crap, either because they are too lazy to find the truth or don't have the time or energy to investigate or they are not listening to enough sources. (And no, I'm not claiming the Democrats are saints or don't manipulate things. Not at all. It is just seems less egregious on that side.)

This morning I get to go watch BabyJ, for maybe one of the last times. Since KidThree wants to go to both sessions at her school, morning and afternoon, I won't be able to get her to and from school while watching BabyJ for a five-hour stretch. I hate to give up watching him, he is a such a lovely, sunny-tempered little dude. He loves cars and trucks, the bigger and noisier, the better. When I take him out for walks, he likes to investigate every wheel on every car we pass. He carefully checks each lug nut and every valve stem he can reach. When he hears the garbage truck coming (the highlight of our Friday mornings together), he races for the front door and grins at me, because he knows I'm right behind him to pick him up and take him out to wave to the garbage truck driver. I think the drivers of our local waste removal have no bigger fan than little BabyJ--the man on that route always gives BabyJ a huge smile and wave when he sees him. Sometimes I'll take BabyJ past the fire station on our walks so he can look at the fire trucks. The firefighters are wonderful, letting him touch the trucks and even sit in the driver's seat. One day I was chatting with a young firefighter and happened to mention that firefighters were almost BabyJ's favorite people, second only to garbagemen. The young firefighter looked a little wounded, so I explained that it was only because the garbage trucks have those marvelous claws that pick up the garbage cans and shake them, making such a wonderful noise while doing so. The firefighter brightened up and eagerly pointed out that some of their firetrucks had ladders that went up and down, but I responded that ladders just couldn't compare with 'the claw'; at that, he had to admit defeat and accept second place.

Time to go get ready for my day.

A

Oh Joy of Joys!

Yesterday I went to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription for KidThree and didn't pay a thing--Medi-Cal FINALLY covered it. This is something that I've had to purchase, full price retail, for the past fifteen months at approximately $100 a pop. Fifteen months of arguing with insurance, of doctors trying different wording to find the magic combination that would persuade Medi-Cal that this item was necessary, that less expensive products had been shown to be ineffective, explaining to each new person just why we used this particular item and what happened when less expensive options were tried. Oh my. Finally, yesterday, I got to pick it up and not pay anything out of pocket. What a relief. Oh my. The funny thing is that the prescription was written wrong--it said we needed that amount of medication monthly, when we only need it every two months. I just may let them give me double the amount, to get a supply built up here. Goodness knows I've learned enough over the past year and a half to take whatever I can get because sooner or later the supply chain will become a victim of bureaucratic ineptitude, leaving us high and dry without the things we need.

And, even better news, the New York Times crossword has come back to the paper! We had no paper on Monday because of Labor Day, so the Tuesday paper had the crossword from Monday in, and also the puzzle from Tuesday. The puzzles come with the answer from the day before. The Monday puzzle came with answers from a puzzle that was obviously a Saturday puzzle. I will go on the assumption that the Saturday puzzle was missing from our Sunday paper on a one-time oversight. Today is Thursday, so the puzzle should be fun to do. I haven't fully gained my equilibrium yet since Sunday's world-rocking paper cut, but doing the crossword today should give me that last little bit of help needed to regain complete stability.

KidThree went to group on her own yesterday while I used the hour to go to the jail and put a deposit down on the books for a cousin of hers. That is the first time I've ever done anything like that. (Parenting KidThree is such a horizon-broadening experience.) The deputy at the front desk was as nice and helpful as could be, since it was obvious that I didn't have a clue about what I was there to do.

Last night Sarah Palin made her speech to the Republican National Convention and I was able to watch the whole thing. It was interesting. I don't think I like this woman--too dogmatic, too far to the right in her religion, and too condescending to those she disagrees with. On a political level, though, she seemed to do a good job. Those she was talking to appeared to hang on her every word, and their cheers and standing ovations looked genuinely felt, not prompted.

On a personal level, though, I like the difficult decisions she has made for her family. She knew her last baby would be born with Down Syndrome and she chose to continue the pregnancy--that would have been my choice, too. And she is standing by her pregnant daughter, expressing love and support and emphasizing the personal, non-political nature of the issue. She's right. It is none of our business. (Although I do wonder about what would happen if she [Palin] were to become pregnant again.)

Politically, though, uh uh. She belongs to a church whose pastor said that Jews are victims of terrorism because they don't accept Christ as savior, she believes our involvement in Iraq is in fulfillment of God's wishes, and her pastor said that Alaska is a land given by God to be a refuge for people from the lower forty-eight 'in the end days.' Lordie, lordie, lordie. Please spare this poor battered country from another administration that believes it is acting in accordance with the wishes of the Divine.

Palin's lack of experience also bothers me, but that is something the Republicans could address by putting out her opinions on different issues. One point a Republican talking head put out was that Palin had foreign policy experience because Alaska was next to Russia. Ha. By that logic, I'm a fisherman because my home state was next to the Pacific, and of course I must be a nuclear weapons engineer because I grew up within five miles of The Lab. What I really disliked, though, was her condescension and contempt last night when speaking of her opponents. She's trying to win over some who might go that direction by being that divisive?

It seems to me that the Republicans, at least these days, are arguing apples and oranges. The lack of logic and connections in their arguments grates on me. Not just grates, but puts vinegar on the grated areas. How can people not see the lack of coherence in their arguments? The best example of this was when Palin talked about Obama and Biden claiming to fight for Americans, but that McCain was the only candidate who had actually fought for Americans. The two issues are not the same. Yes, McCain served in the military, and served far and away above and beyond the call of duty, but the actions of the scores of Senators and Representatives affect the real lives of Americans much more than the actions of the hundreds of thousands of military personnel. The two issues are not the same at all. There were so many examples of that sort of thing last night and I expect there will be more tonight. I try to watch both parties' presentations as objectively as I can, but it still seems to me that the Republicans use bad logic and contempt for opponents quite a bit more than the Democrats.

KidTwo left me a voicemail message Tuesday to say she had arrived safely at her grandparents' home. My girls are very well trained--call Mama the minute you are safely there, so she can relax. The funny thing about that was that last night I got a telemarketer call in Spanish. After listening to the message twice, I had Angela listen to make sure I was understanding it right (my Spanish is not fluent), but Angela confirmed that it really was a call offering me a gift in return for something or other. Uh oh. I don't want to be getting calls like that and hope it doesn't happen again. I am thinking the call originated here in the states, as the caller had a distinct Mexican accent and Mexico is not where KidTwo is. Blasted telemarketers. Bad enough in English; I shouldn't have to deal with them in Spanish. In English, I know right away that it is a telemarketer, but in Spanish, I have to try to figure out if the caller could be trying to tell me something about my lovely and peripatetic KidTwo.

And now off to face the day. The laundry awaits. (The laundry ALWAYS awaits.)

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The Picture Is TAKEN.

KidThree went with me to the newspaper office, where I told the cute young photographer that I wanted her to be in the picture with me because my guest column was about her. The cute young photographer was very obliging, taking several shots of the two of us until there was one with no funny shadows, but then he took one of just me "in case 'they' really insisted." What do you want to bet that is the one that is used? I didn't like the picture and wanted to redo it, but KidThree liked it, so what the heck.

The movie yesterday was wonderful. FriendL and I went to see "Tell No One," as the movie reviewer for our local paper raved about it, and it was that good. Oh my. Complex, surprising, beautifully acted--all things we like to see in movies. It'll go on our Blockbuster list so KidOne and KidThree can watch it. KidThree will need a couple of viewings to get the story straight, as it is in French with subtitles, but she'll love it.

Tomorrow I'll be watching LadyP from 11:30 until 5. LadyP's daughter and husband will be going to look at two residential facilities for her. This is such a hard devolution to watch; LadyP is such a wonderful person and her family loves her so much. Her husband is devastated at the thought of putting her in a facility, as he can't bear the thought of her being frightened and alone, but at the same time he knows her condition is such that he is not physically able to properly care for her on his own. I can see LadyP's deterioration just in our twice-weekly visits--she is growing physically weaker and less able to remember things almost by the day. When I'm with her, I interact with her on two levels: Level one is that of two women sharing some time. I keep up a running conversation of what is going on in my life (kids, their school, the newspaper columnist), speaking slower than normal and occasionally asking a simple question that I know she'll be able to answer so she can feel like she is appropriately involved in the conversation. Level two is that of a child, about age four. I hold her hand and arm tightly when we're walking, comment on the color of the bicycles we see flash past, point out interesting cars and dogs and people. LadyP responds to all that, too; the level is just right for her. She can understand that a particular bicycle is an amazing pink, or that a certain dog is the hairiest we've seen in weeks. I am so very grateful that neither of my parents has that horrible, ghastly disease. Dad is forgetful, but short-term only and in large part because of meds--his essential self is mostly untouched. More than losing any or all of the functions of my body, losing control of my mind is what I fear the most.

Here at home, summer is mostly ended and the college kids are returning. Our building of eight apartments here is filling up with some new tenants and a few returning ones. One of the two young men who live directly above us is so friendly and polite to me when he sees me, it cracks me up. I don't feel old inside, but obviously to him I am a woman the age of his parents to whom he must be respectful and around whom he must mind his manners. Living around all these kids is a little like being a cub scout den mother. When I'm in the laundry room and pulling their laundry out of the washers or dryers or adding money to their dryers so their clothes can get thoroughly dry or folding their dry clothes, I feel like their nanny--all I want to do is take all of them aside and give them laundry lessons. "Kids, this is How we sort the laundry, this is Why we sort the laundry, this is Why my whites are white and yours are dingy gray, and this is What Happens if you try to cram too many items in the machines."

Time to go take care of KidThree. We have group this afternoon; this will be a session without me, since I attended the last one to explain about the special gym.

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Picture Day.

This morning I'm going to go to the local newspaper office to get my picture taken for my guest column. Yesterday I was grousing about having to do that, so KidThree offered to go with me and be in the picture. That seemed like a great idea--the column is about here, after all--so I'm taking her with me. She'll wear her new outfit: blouse and shoes from Sunday's shopping trip and pants from my Wal*Mart trip Saturday.

Yesterday I had a good yak with Mom; she is back online. Good. It is peculiar to have Mom disconnected from us all--disorienting, almost. Life is better with contact.

The wind yesterday morning made me dizzy, so I ended up spending most of the day horizontal, and a lot of that time napping. A good way to spend the day, only I wish it wasn't vertigo that triggered it. Mother's Day or my birthday or Christmas would have come with presents and catering. I'm still feeling a bit fuzzy and so will end this here.

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Labor Day.

The wind came up last night and now it is blowing like crazy outside. I have all the windows open and am enjoying it immensely, the sound and the feel of it. According to the news, it is supposed to start heating up again today; at least we had a relatively cool weekend (not out of the eighties). Man oh man am I looking forward to the fall.

eHarmony is having a Labor Day weekend special--free participation through today. I went ahead and signed up but don't expect to be able to continue, as eHarmony wants a credit card. Match.com allowed me to pay from my bank account. I went ahead and emailed back a man who contacted me, and then sent messages to two others. It is a real drawback that I don't know how to upload photos, as people like to see faces.

I missed my crossword puzzle all day yesterday. Today there is no paper because of the holiday, so I can't check to see what puzzle appears. Tomorrow I'll do that--see if the puzzle that shows up is the New York Times one or another of these three-letter word puzzles that are a waste of ink. Blast. I want to know NOW.

Yesterday KidThree and I went to PastorJ's church. They had services outdoors in the park next to the facility where they usually met, and had a barbecue afterwards. It was lovely. This group of people is so very friendly. Most wear nametags, and many of them came up to introduce themselves to us and chat for a bit. KidThree appeared to enjoy it; I'll take her back happily. Especially when they offer up tri-tip.

We also went to do a little clothes shopping. Very little, as I couldn't swing much, but at least we got out. A Mervyn's near us is closing because of the chain's bankruptcy, so we went there first. We had a good time choosing tops for her to try on and found one that is cute and fit well. Then we went shoe-shopping; she found a pair of plain black sneakers. Our routine when shoe-shopping is for me to try on the shoes first, as I know just how her shoes should fit me in order to fit her (my feet are that tiny bit wider). If a shoe feels to me as though it would work on her feet, then we go to the trouble of trying it on her. That saves time. Sometimes I've gone out to get KidThree shoes without her, which gets some funny reactions from the store personnel as I am so obviously out of place buying stylish-teenager shoes. One young man once even hesitantly suggested to me that I might be in the wrong store and was so confused when I told him what shoes I was there to try on. When I explain that I'm there to get shoes for my daughter, they are relieved--all is right with their world again and they help me happily.

Today I'll take the rejected pants back to Wal*Mart for my refund. That money goes into checking to help pay the rent. I am so looking forward to October, when I start earning enough money to pay the bills regularly and on time, and will still have enough to buy KidThree more than one top per shopping trip.

I sent Mom, SisterC, KidOne and KidTwo my winning column through email and got a funny response from SisterC. She wrote, "you are such of a good writer, and I haven't even read your entry yet!" Happiness is a sister who is believes of course you should win, even when she hasn't read the winning entry. Mom's computer is not working these days, so she may not be able to get to her email. She doesn't like to use Dad's computer.

KidTwo is heading to her daddy's home country tomorrow for a month with the relatives. She is looking forward to seeing her grandparents, especially as her grandfather had a health crisis recently. A friend of hers from here in town is meeting her there for ten days of her trip; they plan to go sightseeing together. After the month down South, KidTwo will move to the country next door, where her daddy has been transferred and where she will work and go to school. If I ever win the lotto, I'll go visit KidTwo down South and have her show me all around. After I'm done kissing and hugging her. The kids have promised many, many online photos so I can see where they go and who they visit. Several of the relatives I know from visits up here and others I know long-distance through KidTwo and KidOne's visits; I look forward to seeing pictures of them and have sent greetings all around. (Yes, I know they are my ex's family, but when I divorced him, I kept his relatives.)

This morning the laundry awaits. Water is boiling for my second cup of coffee, then I'll sort loads and get things going. Before the sun comes up and the heat starts up and I want to crawl back into my cave. FriendL and I are going to go to a movie later, "Tell No One." KidThree fussed theatrically a little until I said it was subtitled, then she was fine with being deserted. She and I will go see "The Dark Knight" tomorrow. Also this morning I am staying with LadyP for a little while; her husband still needs the break, Labor Day or no.

Sunday Morning Just Crashed Down.

I couldn't pay the subscription fee for our big regional paper, so that delivery was stopped some months ago; with it went my Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle. Our local paper (which I just managed to pay for) is an afternoon one five days a week, and then one issue Sunday morning. Six papers a week. It contained the non-Sunday New York Times crossword puzzles, Monday's through Saturday's, with the Saturday puzzle being printed in the Sunday morning edition.

*For non-crossword fans, the Sunday New York Times is an extra-big puzzle, usually with some trick or pun to it. It is almost always a challenge, at least for me. The weekly puzzles start out easy on Monday and get incrementally more difficult throughout the week, with the Saturday puzzle frequently being more difficult than even the big one on Sunday.

The Sunday New York Times crossword was always a lot of fun, but I haven't missed it TOO terribly much because I still had a puzzle to do on Sunday morning, a puzzle that frequently took me all day to get solved.

To stretch out the fun, I save the puzzle for last. I read the paper, including the inserts, check the sale ads, chuckle at the funnies, and then, then I turn to the classified section to open it to my crossword. This morning, there was something wrong with the crossword. I thought it was a misprint. It was so small, it didn't take up the space cleared for it, and the answers all looked to be short little words. It had to be a misprint. Then I looked closer. It is a crossword. A baby crossword. A crossword embryo, born prematurely before it developed to the stage of having polysyllabic words. A crossword that couldn't cross a cul-de-sac by itself, let alone go down to the local newspaper.

There was no explanation. How could someone shatter my Sunday mornings with no explanation? What did I do? Did I anger the newspaper gods by my inability to pay the subscription bill to the big paper? Did I enjoy too much the negative view of a modern newspaper depicted in the wonderful, complex offering that was Season Five of "The Wire?" What happened? Where is my crossword? How can I enjoy my Sunday properly without facing a puzzle that at first glance appears insolvable, but that then gradually over the day opens itself to my understanding? And how can I face the week without looking forward to the crossword puzzles from Thursdays on? The anticipation of the more difficult puzzles helps me to face the assault on my resources that is the beginning of each week. Monday's puzzles I scorn. Tuesday's puzzles I scoff at. Wednesday's puzzles I deign to skim over, as once in a while one looks like it might make me think for a moment or two. And then there is Thursday, with a puzzle that I can be sure is going to take me a little while, that will make me think on at least some of the clues, that can fool me and puzzle me and confound me, at least a little bit. Friday's puzzles are even better, then I get the fun of delayed gratification in waiting an extra day for the puzzle prize that is the Saturday New York Times crossword.

Then this. I don't know how I'll face the day. How can I fill my time? What will I do? I am bereft. Will Shortz, is this your fault? Tell me, what did I do? WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID??

The newspaper lies scattered around my chair, mute.

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Another Saturday, Another Funeral.

This morning's funeral was for a teen who was successfully disassociating himself from his gang. He had made the choice to leave that life behind him, turned his focus to school, worked hard with his school's football team, and died anyway, shot in the back of the head by some gangbangers who crashed a party he was attending. What a tragedy. This boy had done what KidThree did--he made the choice to leave that life, he made better decisions, he started to work his way out, and still he got popped. What an f'ing tragedy. What a mess. That poor boy. His poor family. Our poor society.

Of course KidThree knew him. Friends and acquaintances of hers die at the rate of almost one a week, murdered, mostly. When I was a girl, I went to my grandfather's funeral and the funeral of a classmate who walked behind home plate when a batter hit the ball and then threw aside his bat, where it struck my classmate in the head. That was it. For KidThree, this was the fourth funeral this summer. One natural, albeit tragic, death and three murders. And those were only the deaths where she attended the funerals.

It was an interesting morning. This family didn't know me, so KidThree very hesitantly hinted that I might not want to attend, as my presence might be somewhat inhibiting to the other attendees. Poor KidThree. She was so careful to assure me that she wasn't ashamed of me, that she was proud to have me as her mom, she just thought the family might not be entirely comfortable with me. I reassured her that I understood, not to blow smoke, but because I really did understand her dilemma.

We went across town to pick up another girl, then headed out to the funeral. When we got there, I was tickled to see that it was at a Catholic cathedral. Ha Ha Ha! I knew it would be as unfamiliar to her as her Baptist services have been for me, and that is what happened. She and her friend didn't understand most of what was going on. Afterwards I was able to explain to them some of the differences they had noticed. I think I may take KidThree to a few Catholic services just to explain to her some basic religious history.

While the girls were at the funeral, I went to Wal*Mart and did some shopping. That was fun. We have trouble shopping for pants for KidThree, as we need a dressing room with a good-sized bench in it in order for her to be able to try on the clothing. It works better to buy things, bring them home to try, then return the rejects. Today I had just cashed her SSI check and so had plenty of cash (NOT my usual situation), so I chose a dozen pairs of jeans and shorts to try. She chose two pairs of the shorts and three of the pants fit me (we wear sort of the same size--just very different styles as we are different shapes). The rest will go back tomorrow.

We have just finished watching the last episode of "The Wire." The very last one. Not the penultimate, the actual ultimate. Drat, Blast, and Darn It All. The last episode of "The Wire." I thought "The Sopranos" was good, but "The Wire" blew that out of the water. Oh my. No more "The Wire." It has so ruined television for me. No more cop shows except things like "The First 48," which KidThree likes to watch. Drat, Blast, and Darn It All AGAIN.

News from the 'hood: KidThree's bio-mother got locked up yesterday afternoon; bio-mother's wife and KidThree's younger brother are still on the run; and KidThree's sister is still in hiding with her babydaddy and their baby. It will take a while for that to resolve. What a mess this world of ours is.

On the plus side, I won one of the spots in the contest "To Replace the Above-Named Columnist" in our local paper. There were ten spots, so it isn't that big a win, but what the heck, I'll take what I can get. I got the chance to get my "Don't Block the Walk" campaign out in front of the public. Ideas keep running through my head for funny signs and flyers, complete with photos illustrating the idiocy of some of the problems we run into out in the Big Bad Inaccessible World. Maybe that will be how I leave my mark on the world--"Don't Block the Walk" can be right up there with "Don't Drink and Drive." That and my lovely trio, Kids One, Two, and Three.

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Yesterday's News.

Yesterday it was well over a hundred degrees here and last night it barely cooled off. Windows open all night, but the apartment is still hot. Miserably hot. Swelteringly hot. Utterly, terribly, roastingly hot. Yuck. The fall can't come quickly enough for this heat-hating blogger.

Yesterday I got in touch with the company through which KidThree originally got her wheelchair to see if they would still take care of the chair even with our insurance change. They will. Thank goodness. Today I have to arrange to get them a prescription, then they will set in motion the procedure to get the repairs authorized. KidThree needs her own chair back. The borrowed one she's in is so rickety, we expect parts to start falling off at any moment.

Our ADA called yesterday to update me on the trial's newest presumed start date. It will start sometime between 09/04 and09/08, with KidThree being the first to testify after opening arguments. I'll be able to listen to opening arguments but KidThree can't because she is a witness. She'll have to stay out in the hall or across the street in the DA's office with our support group. I so want this to be over with. It has been hanging over KidThree's head for so long now, raising her anxiety levels every time it gets continued and rescheduled. She needs to get this over with.

The messy thing about this trial is that not everyone who should be charged was charged. The shooting was between two groups who had been arguing: I'll call them GroupA and GroupB. The argument was on GroupA's territory. Apparently GroupB arrived on the scene to back up one of their members who was being verbally harassed by GroupA. One or two members of GroupB pulled out weapons and started firing on GroupA, who responded by getting a weapon and firing in return. Somehow, those who explained to the police later about the event covered up the fact that GroupB had been firing, had initiated the shooting. No One from GroupB got charged. Two young men from GroupA were the only ones charged, when it is entirely possible their actions counted as self-defense. It is also very likely that a shooter from GroupB was the one who fired the shot that hit KidThree, who was across the street and down a bit. It just feels WRONG to us. Wrong that the members in GroupB didn't get charged. Wrong that the two in GroupA got charged when they were responding to incoming fire. Wrong that the member of GroupB who has bragged about shooting KidThree didn't get charged. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Our ADA told us that he disagreed with the decision to not charge the members of GroupB, but that the decision was made above his head and he couldn't change it. (He was not our original ADA, but we like him much better than the first one.) This whole mess, with the arbitrary nature of who got charged and the continuance after continuance after continuance, has seriously damaged my faith in the justice system. It will be very interesting (and probably more disillusioning) to see how the actual trial goes.

Yesterday I got started moving furniture around in KidThree's room but wasn't able to get much done. 105 degrees outside and no a/c in that room made for a short working session. Maybe by the weekend it will cool off enough for me to do some more work in there. KidOne has two bureaus in there which will be gone in the next week or two, giving KidThree access to all of her room again. We have to set up an exercise spot in there so she can do the routines she learned down at the gym, but we can't do that until the room is cleared of KidOne's extraneous furniture.

And of course yesterday we watched Obama's acceptance speech. I missed Bill Richardson's speech, which I was very sorry about, but at least I got to hear Obama. I thought he was marvelous. Absolutely marvelous. He said all the things I wanted to hear and then some, and what a delivery. It will be quite a letdown next week to hear John McCain give his speech next week, with his anemic "my friends" over and over and over again. He just can't compare when it comes to speaking. But we will be watching, and listening, carefully.

So far school is going well for KidThree. I hope her current level of motivation continues. KidOne started her college semester last week and is adjusting to balancing work and study again; her several weeks of 'vacation' between the summer and fall sessions got her out of practice. KidTwo is out of contact for a bit as her father left the country there and took his laptop with him. I HATE it when she is out of contact. I don't mind a bit when she is out of the country--I miss her like crazy, but I don't mind, because I know I can look at her online journal and hear her voice, and she sends me emails where I can hear her voice, but when she can't access the internet, I don't have that contact. Drat drat drat. She goes to South American next week and will be staying a month. I hope she has access to a computer down there. I miss my KidTwo and want to hear her lovely, funny, idiosyncratic voice. Over the phone or through the computer, I do so love to hear my girl.

My mother is offline too. Her computer is down. Blast! I'll give her a call tomorrow so we can have a good long gab and catch up on all the news.

I finished the biography of Charles Schulz and continued throughout to be enchanted and impressed with the thoroughness of David Michaelis's work. He did such a marvelous job of intertwining 'Peanuts' with the events in Schulz's life and giving us such a clear picture of that complicated man. Like the rest of my generation, I grew up reading 'Peanuts' daily and knew all the characters as well as I knew the members of my own family. That was the only place where I found characters who had the same doubts and despairs that I did, but kept on going nonetheless. I did, and do, love 'Peanuts.' I collect PVC Snoopys, key rings and Christmas ornaments, and have so many my entire Christmas trees are decorated entirely in them.

I then read about half of the biography of Charles Fort but got so annoyed with his stupidity and Theodore Dreiser's gullibility that I quit reading it. The older I've gotten, the less likely I am to finish a book that doesn't keep me interested on at least a couple of levels. So, now I'm reading "The Slaves' War: The Civil War in the Words of Former Slaves," by Andrew Ward. He has done the same sort of amazingly in-depth job as Michaelis, going through what must have been reams and reams of papers to tease out the vignettes he uses in the book. I am enjoying the book and will read bits of it to KidThree after I've finished it; she gets school credit for things like that if she writes short essays on what she has learned.

Now I will finish my coffee and try harder to kill the mosquito that is trying to breakfast on my delectable self. With the computer on my lap, my murderous attempts have thus far been futile.

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