random updates continue
May. 9th, 2018 08:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dancing_crowGot my father home this morning from jail/assisted living. He was so worried about the trip - if he had a big enough duffle for his things, if I knew where to find him, if I knew where to take him, how long it would take - these are all things that surprise me because I think of them as intrinsic to the trip, in some fashion. I will pick him up and take him home means - yes I know where you are now (I've had lunch with you daily for the last month), yes I know where you are are going, yes, I brought you a duffle, don't worry about where it came from. Nothing you have to catch (he worries about trains and planes and ferries and all the same things I do, so I guess I have a better understanding for where Trip Fever comes from).
He almost sort of recognized their apartment ("the little apartment at the far end of the big brown building built like a dirigible hanger") definitely recognized my stepmother and their cats, and fell asleep upright on the couch with a cat on his knee. He has been so out of sorts for the last several weeks, I hope he sleeps better in more familiar terrain.
My brother and I invited Hospice to assess him while he was still at assisted living, and it was one of those kind of farcial interviews. She was lovely, and did all the right things. He was tlking a lot about ways he might die - he isn't afraid of it, he is kind of curious, and he is worried about what he is turning into, losing his memory and his past like this. But she was very firm about them not assisting suicide, and he kind of harumphed. We had a side conversation, the Hospice lady, my brother and I, about how likely he was to do anything he talked about, because it can sound horrifying except it is also a thing we've heard frequently since he was 60 (93 in July).
The woman we (stepmother and I) thought would be coming this morning did not, in fact, come this morning. I haven't heard anything from her, I hope she's ok and her family is ok. We have someone different coming in tomorrow, and she might be able to take Friday morning as well. Now I am second guessing myself and all the phone calls I made and assessments I blithely took on.
I want to make something haunting and ghostly, but it keeps turning out muddy, gross and banal. I want to try to put onto the fabric this feeling I have about ghosts and inheritance and history, but it looks like crap. So I've switched to yellow tulips in a blue glass vase, and I might be able to finish that up in the next couple of days.
My new fountain pen (celebration for finishing the Tarot) is still working on the first pump full of violet dusk ink. Which on the one hand is lovely, and on the other hand, I kind of want to try the teal ink now.
The kitchen was abruptly overrun by mice last night. Stupid mice. It is summer out, and there should be plenty of things to eat OUTSIDE. Youa re not supposed to invade the house until October and frost. This is entirely backwards and precisely the way this year is going. Al has set traps, and I am sure I'm going to step on one in the dark.
yellow tulips! on the workbench and in the garden
And Also Alice is home from college, all seven miles across the river, and it so nice to have her back. She has part time work for the summer with a professor from this semester, and field camp in Iceland finishing with some touring with her sister and the sister's Young Man in Iceland before dreturning home and then onto vacation in Maine. She thinks maybe she overbooked her summer. I think it sounds excellent.
He almost sort of recognized their apartment ("the little apartment at the far end of the big brown building built like a dirigible hanger") definitely recognized my stepmother and their cats, and fell asleep upright on the couch with a cat on his knee. He has been so out of sorts for the last several weeks, I hope he sleeps better in more familiar terrain.
My brother and I invited Hospice to assess him while he was still at assisted living, and it was one of those kind of farcial interviews. She was lovely, and did all the right things. He was tlking a lot about ways he might die - he isn't afraid of it, he is kind of curious, and he is worried about what he is turning into, losing his memory and his past like this. But she was very firm about them not assisting suicide, and he kind of harumphed. We had a side conversation, the Hospice lady, my brother and I, about how likely he was to do anything he talked about, because it can sound horrifying except it is also a thing we've heard frequently since he was 60 (93 in July).
The woman we (stepmother and I) thought would be coming this morning did not, in fact, come this morning. I haven't heard anything from her, I hope she's ok and her family is ok. We have someone different coming in tomorrow, and she might be able to take Friday morning as well. Now I am second guessing myself and all the phone calls I made and assessments I blithely took on.
I want to make something haunting and ghostly, but it keeps turning out muddy, gross and banal. I want to try to put onto the fabric this feeling I have about ghosts and inheritance and history, but it looks like crap. So I've switched to yellow tulips in a blue glass vase, and I might be able to finish that up in the next couple of days.
My new fountain pen (celebration for finishing the Tarot) is still working on the first pump full of violet dusk ink. Which on the one hand is lovely, and on the other hand, I kind of want to try the teal ink now.
The kitchen was abruptly overrun by mice last night. Stupid mice. It is summer out, and there should be plenty of things to eat OUTSIDE. Youa re not supposed to invade the house until October and frost. This is entirely backwards and precisely the way this year is going. Al has set traps, and I am sure I'm going to step on one in the dark.
yellow tulips! on the workbench and in the garden
And Also Alice is home from college, all seven miles across the river, and it so nice to have her back. She has part time work for the summer with a professor from this semester, and field camp in Iceland finishing with some touring with her sister and the sister's Young Man in Iceland before dreturning home and then onto vacation in Maine. She thinks maybe she overbooked her summer. I think it sounds excellent.