Flowers & Kittens

And the madness begins ...

Kittens whose mother disappeared require dropper feeding. I'm on afternoons while our niece Rebecca is at school.

Feels Like Monday

Betty and Richard arriving home from work on Friday afternoon.

These are two of Emil's roommates in town.

You should see him. In —what? three months?— without yeast products, dairy and sugar, he's slimmed down far enough that I don't want to see him lose any more weight.
"Are you hungry during the week?" I ask, making sure he's not starving it off.
He says not, but like any young man at his mother's for the weekend, he has a voracious appetite and I indulge it as much as possible and reasonable. Don't wanna kill the kid with kindness, but figure since portions are limited at the group home, a little extra on the weekend is just insurance.

Laughing It All Away

What more can I say?

I've just been given two-weeks notice from another job (gol darn these non-profits, I'd say, but that's the way of it), and yesterday my van gave up the ghost finally and completely so I am wheelless.

Obviously it is time to start dancing.

It doesn't feel like hard times and as I'm able-bodied and my eyes and computer still work, I'm not too worried about finding ways to earn a dollar. Meanwhile what is the harm in furious dancing? It keeps your spirits up and kickstarts your energy. Even when it's only around your own kitchen.

In other news, my cousin Jolene is at her home for the weekend and will return to the hospital tomorrow to pick up her belongings and get properly discharged. She has been there two months and is more than ready to be done with it. There is one nurse that plays power games and bullies the patients while with her fellow employees butter wouldn't melt in her mouth; and overall it doesn't seem as if the medical staff are on top of their game. For instance, they didn't know (and neither did she) that she had a broken kneecap among all the other fractures. It was on an x-ray ... so ... what the ...? And when her doctor ordered a blood test to see why Jolene's had a mid-grade fever for two or three weeks, the nurse told her she didn't need it, and didn't take her for the test.

There are a number of these kinds of stories, which make you wonder if Jolene is getting the care she deserves and needs. Being at home will be no picnic either, as she is not supposed to be cooking and doing dishes, among other things, and ends up doing them anyway. Sleeping in a bed that isn't best for her back when she was specifically told to sleep on a firmer one they have; handling a difficult eight-year-old; why, if it weren't for the bumbling of the medical staff at the facility she's been at, being back there could almost be considered a holiday in comparison. If Jolene didn't still have so much pain and difficulty breathing, that is.

We talked on the phone quite a while yesterday and my conclusion is that she is between a rock and a hard place. Fortunately we all think she is as feisty as they come, so we don't worry too much about her. We believe she has it in her to get what she needs. I hope this hasn't resulted in people not offering to help her, thinking she doesn't need it. Even so, we had quite a few good laughs at the situations we find ourselves in (the nasty nurse verbally abused an elderly patient and made her cry, but Jolene was "in the can waiting for my ass to get wiped so I couldn't do anything but listen," for example) and the foibles of us all.

Slow Start to Saturday

A henna design on skin. Somewhere I've kept the link to the artist's webpage ... hm, where is that now ...

The image above was found while searching for breast-related images for Bev's webpage.

Scott delivered a large glass mug of black coffee to me by 6:30 this morning so I've been up and around for five hours already. I've been out in the yard in my pyjamas, feeding the old dog and pulling grass and dandelions from the flowerbeds. I've refilled the bird feeders — oh my that is a busy place these days, and such variety and noise! — and washed and dried the dishes and made oatmeal for breakfast.

The sun she is a-shining & Emil and I are going gallavanting. There are garage sales in Wadena this weekend, and I'm looking for one of those old air poppers for backup, in case the theatre-popper (my last Christmas gift to Mom, which Dad gave back to me after she died; "I'll never use it," he said) gives up the ghost just when it's most needed: "crack" production week.

Then we'll head to Margo, where Emil hopes to see his cousin Marc and have a look at little Lexi. He hasn't seen her yet and loves babies, and I haven't gotten my hands on her since she was a month old. Aunt Shirley is back in town so we'll swing by there too; Emil was worried she'd never come home, after she'd been staying with her son Gerald for so long. And of course we hope to catch Karen at home. When we texted yesterday she thought it likely. Tomorrow would be a different story.

And so off I go to make smoothies for the road ... Yee ha! It's the weekend!

Frogs for Dad

On the loveliest of peaceful walks last night before sunset.

The leaves started coming out yesterday. This is always a thrilling time isn't it? That bright bright green is the best pick-me-up there is.

The huge flocks of snow geese have begun passing low overhead as they look for places to land for the night. I know better than to stand looking up with my jaw hanging open in awe, but it is still hard not to.

The deafening cacophony of chorusing frogs has already climaxed and abated, volume-wise, but I recorded this little bit of backyard heaven anyway. The camera doesn't pick up all the bird calls in the air around me as I stand near the barn to eyeball the lone (apparently) Canada goose on the slough. You can't see it in this bit of film, probably.

Dad said one thing he misses about living out here is the frogs in the spring.
Here you go, Dad: