Most of my daylight hours were spent sans screens, although I undid all that relaxation by spending the past couple of hours on my laptop. But today was another day for seeing family. We started with Sunday brunch -- my dad grilled sausages, my mom made eggs, and we ate some of the tasty leftover fruit from her garden club, which was all tasty. My contribution to this feast was mimosa, since my dad had requested that I make them for him -- sadly, since he and I both had to drive after that, the mimosas weren't the bottomless kind that one can get in San Francisco, but c'est la vie.
After brunch, he and I went into town to see my grandmother. This was, as usual, fairly depressing, but she was in good spirits and happy to see me, so you really can't ask for more than that. I mean, you could ask that she had never developed dementia in the first place, but since that request clearly wasn't granted, her current state is at least better than some of the other alternatives.
sssanyway, we came home shortly thereafter, and I collected my mother so that she and I could visit my sister. I drove us over there in my old car (the 2002 Pontiac Sunfire that I drove from 2002 to 2007), which has held up surprisingly well given that it's now thirteen years old and was a deathtrap thirteen years ago right now, when we bought it before my senior year at Stanford. We spent an hour or two hanging out with Jackie, who just moved into a new house; my youngest niece (Allie) was home for a little bit before going to work, so I got to see her as well. It wasn't as long as we usually have when I'm home for something like Christmas, but I'm glad we made the trip.
Then we came home, and I gave my dad a ride to my grandmother's old house to pick up his truck, since he'd driven the tractor home instead. My grandparents' house is slowly returning to the earth -- the sidewalk is overrun, vines are growing up over the door, the barn could collapse at any moment, and even the trees are likely to die when the emerald ash borer arrives on the scene.
Life goes on (life finds a way, according to Jurassic Park), and life may even return to that farm someday. But my kids won't play with the beaded curtain on the doorway to the littlest bedroom, or swing from the bannister, or help my granddad with the TV Guide crossword puzzle as the box fan blows in the den, or eat my grandma's rolls in the kitchen, or riffle through the toys and treasures from my dad's childhood. And there won't be new lambs to name and bottle-feed in the barn, nor will there be peacocks screaming like damsels in distress in the yard. But I knew that all years ago, I suppose, even if I never allowed myself to think it.
sssanyway again, after that, I came home, and we had supper before [censored] returned to [censored]. And then my parents and I tried to watch television, but the air is muggy and still and no good for the signal (and by still I mean full of crickets - the country isn't nearly as silent as you might think, although I prefer crickets to sirens), and the tv signal kept cutting out for minutes at a time, so I gave up, came downstairs, and wrote/read/browsed the interwebs until now.
And now I must sleep - I want to get some actual work done tomorrow, and I need to run a couple of errands, and that all requires that I actually get out of bed in the morning like a normal person instead of a slovenly wench like I've been the last few days. Goodnight!
After brunch, he and I went into town to see my grandmother. This was, as usual, fairly depressing, but she was in good spirits and happy to see me, so you really can't ask for more than that. I mean, you could ask that she had never developed dementia in the first place, but since that request clearly wasn't granted, her current state is at least better than some of the other alternatives.
sssanyway, we came home shortly thereafter, and I collected my mother so that she and I could visit my sister. I drove us over there in my old car (the 2002 Pontiac Sunfire that I drove from 2002 to 2007), which has held up surprisingly well given that it's now thirteen years old and was a deathtrap thirteen years ago right now, when we bought it before my senior year at Stanford. We spent an hour or two hanging out with Jackie, who just moved into a new house; my youngest niece (Allie) was home for a little bit before going to work, so I got to see her as well. It wasn't as long as we usually have when I'm home for something like Christmas, but I'm glad we made the trip.
Then we came home, and I gave my dad a ride to my grandmother's old house to pick up his truck, since he'd driven the tractor home instead. My grandparents' house is slowly returning to the earth -- the sidewalk is overrun, vines are growing up over the door, the barn could collapse at any moment, and even the trees are likely to die when the emerald ash borer arrives on the scene.
Life goes on (life finds a way, according to Jurassic Park), and life may even return to that farm someday. But my kids won't play with the beaded curtain on the doorway to the littlest bedroom, or swing from the bannister, or help my granddad with the TV Guide crossword puzzle as the box fan blows in the den, or eat my grandma's rolls in the kitchen, or riffle through the toys and treasures from my dad's childhood. And there won't be new lambs to name and bottle-feed in the barn, nor will there be peacocks screaming like damsels in distress in the yard. But I knew that all years ago, I suppose, even if I never allowed myself to think it.
sssanyway again, after that, I came home, and we had supper before [censored] returned to [censored]. And then my parents and I tried to watch television, but the air is muggy and still and no good for the signal (and by still I mean full of crickets - the country isn't nearly as silent as you might think, although I prefer crickets to sirens), and the tv signal kept cutting out for minutes at a time, so I gave up, came downstairs, and wrote/read/browsed the interwebs until now.
And now I must sleep - I want to get some actual work done tomorrow, and I need to run a couple of errands, and that all requires that I actually get out of bed in the morning like a normal person instead of a slovenly wench like I've been the last few days. Goodnight!
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