Can I Use A Life Line?

Hi. This is my life line and I've waited a long time to use it. As mentioned briefly in my last post, my power cord on my laptop went out again. I didn't realize at the time how quickly batteries die on these things. The bubble that popped up on my screen told me I had a couple of hours of battery time left. That was a lie, a big fat lie! I really had about a half hour, which only gave me enough time to read my comments early Monday morning.

If you came here and read about our travels, you are aware of the trouble I had over the last two weeks getting internet service. I expected once I was home my troubles would be over. I was wrong. I've missed you all. I've missed my internet. I've missed this umbilical cord that is my life line. Today, I really feel home.

Home Sweet Home

It took a couple of days for this place to feel like home again. Sunday afternoon, everything was back into place and most of the house and laundry was clean. It was 2 p.m. and I needed a nap. I took my place on the comfy couch only to be awaken at least ten times by the phone, the kids' friends coming over, my kids checking in even though their dad was right outside, and Guido meowing.

The last phone call to wake me came at 3 o'clock. I'd been trying to fall into a deep sleep for an hour. I'd rather not sleep at all because that kind of shit only makes me more tired and bitchy. Mr. Lane's dad was on the phone and said he was coming over. So much for my nap. He arrived in less than an hour with both of his daughters, one son in-law and six of his grandkids in tow.

Keep in mind, I have yet to go grocery shopping and suddenly, I had a houseful of people. Not fun!

Bird Is The Word

News about Picasso spread like wildfire in my family. Everyone called to send their condolences to Lane 1. My mother was one of those callers. She really felt bad for him and wanted to do something. So, she told him, when he was ready to love again, she would buy him a new pet. "Whatever kind of pet you want", she told him. Did I mentioned that she is fucking whacked?

The boy said he really would like a ferret. As he spoke to her, I shook my head in disapproval. He whispered back to me, "Grandma said."

"Mom! We don't replace pets!" I said once I got my turn on the phone.

"I know that! I just wanted him to know that I would like to do something for him when he is ready."

"Ferrets are disgusting. There is no way."

This afternoon, Lane 1 came in from playing with his friend Taylor. "Hey Ma? Can you call Grandma for me and tell her I changed my mind about the ferret?"

"I told her yesterday you can't have one."

"I know but she said she was getting me one anyhow, no matter what you say."

"Reeeally? Sure, I'll call her. By the way, why did you suddenly change your mind?"

"Taylor told me they are disgusting."

"I told you that too."

"I know Mom, but Taylor had one and it used to poop and then wipe its butt on the carpet leaving crap tracks."

"Yeah, they are nasty little buggers. I'll call Grandma, you go play."

Luckily, for my mother, she didn't answer her phone. I guess I'll give her an earful later.

My pictures are being developed and hopefully I'll have a few scanned in to post tomorrow. I'll share more road stories with the pictures. For those of you who wanted to see what my mom looked like after her accident, (WARNING: NASTY SHIT) click here. The photo is really icky and I'd much rather not put it on my Flickr account or out in the open here. She is healed and much better now.