Henrietta is gone, buried and the thank you notes are done. Now, in my “what’s next” mode of mind, comes…. nothing.

This is really rather odd. There was always “something” next. The sense of freedom is at the same time titillating  and scary. I am giddy with lack of responsibility and ability to run, willy-nilly, hither and yon, doing whatever I want whenever the mood strikes me. (And a ride is available.)

I miss Henrietta, yet the sense of relief that I feel was magnified by the immense relief that she felt as she took her last breath.

The girls are having to take turns with me. They both are desirous of my attention. Every. Single. Day.

“Go with me there, Mommy!” and “Come with me here, Mommy!” is what I am hearing constantly. And no. I’m not doing all the buying.

There was a small argument over who got custody of me the other day and I was egging them on telling them how proud I would be if they got in a fight over me. Heh. It was cool. Somehow my past good parenting crap paid off and they found some sort of middle ground. I happily went with whoever and was handed off later in the day.

I am telling you, I am in demand and there is no bedpan involved.

It’s weird.

Now the scary part is, well, financial as much as anything else. I need to find a way to replace the money that was coming into the household via Henrietta’s annuity.

Remember, I don’t drive due to a visual handicap I acquired in a 1978 automobile accident/head injury. All my other people drive, yet have jobs and/or go to school. So they are going to be undependable as far as reliable transportation.

I am sloooowly turning my thoughts towards that foot massager and the line of men that H was convinced I had filing through here paying me money for… a foot massage? I wish I was half as successful as she made me out to be.

Meanwhile, in other parts of Gotham City…

My brother Cam, remember? The rock star? Yes, well he’s published, again. This time a British magazine named Web Designer has included his Periodic Table of Typefaces in their rather pricey pages. I have never paid $15.00 for a magazine before, much less bought three of them.

Yes, I really must love you, Cam… Anyway, congrats to you, bro!

I will get back soon and try really hard to catch up on my blog reading! Things are just starting to slow down around here!

Oh, and right before Henrietta passed I had announced a contest! It’s back on! Read these rules and let me hear from everyone! This is truly a wonderful pile of shit valuable cash and prizes I’m going to be giving away!

My tagline. And now it’s gone!

And even though I continue to prove that I CAN INDEED, continue to do just what it claims, it’s not the same not having it up there. <insert sad face here.

Color me pitiful. I want my baby brudder to come home from work, (where he is trying frantically to catch up since he missed a bunch of days while lounging around the hospital nursing a spider bite infection), and realize that the most important thing in the world now that his precious body is healed and he’s NOT going to die and all that other high-drama crap, is getting his darling sister’s blog back to normal.

OK, really? I know we’re all thinking the same thing. “Normal” isn’t all that for HalfAsstic. As a matter of fact “normal” could never be considered a HalfAssticism.

Sub-par, that is a good HalfAssticism.

Maybe, “almost adequate”? Or is that pushing it, as well? Whatev. That little guy up in this new masthead just rubs me the wrong way. I can’t even tell if he’s coming or going. What’s his story anyway? Are those sheep in the pasture on the left? Cows? Really short, fat horses? What? Who the hell planted all those trees? Were they really as anal retentive as it appears? Did Martha Stewart have a hand in any of this, cause the whole scene just smacks of Martha Stewart.

Have I ever mentioned how much I detest Martha Stewart? Oh yeah… here. Go directly to bullet number 8.

My nephew, Noah left with Kes and Gil to go back to Nana’s last night. *sigh* I miss him. He is such a delightful child.

Sasha Fierce bit my finger this afternoon when I was attempting to feed her a treat along with the other dogs. Index finger, right hand, deep gash on the ball of it. Lil’ bitch. I am so mad at her. I have repeatedly scolded her about being such a pig when she gets treats. I usually offer the treat in a balled up fist for her to sniff first and I push her nose back with the back of my hand and then slowly open it for her to take the treat. For some reason she calms down because she seems to know she has to and doesn’t rake her teeth over me.

Right. I will remember to do it next time, I can tell you that.

Baby got a clip and is a nudist now. She is walking around the house neck-id as a jaybird. My entire family has made fun of her figure now that we can see she is fat and not just fluffy.

They are so mean.

OK, I think I worked out the need to post… Yeah, I’m apologizing! Heh!

I am not having any luck getting it straightened out and my stupid-brother, Cam, is in hospital when I NEED HIM! He’s nursing, what they suspect is, a couple of teeny, tiny black widow spider bites. Battling fever and body aches and a giant sore on his side.
The pansy-ass. He’s just doing this because I need him. He always was self-centered like this…
Here’s the latest picture I got from his iphone.

Doesn’t that look awful? Bless his heart. Really, I’m worried about him and am anxiously awaiting his return home. I am sure Melissa, his wife, is too.

• Reading that title again…. wondering what kinds of pervs I’m going to get trolling through here…?

• Actual conversation while we were shopping and looking around at ties for John.

I picked up one that was on clearance at Kohl’s and said, “Hey, this one is only $3.98.”

His immediate response: “How do you know?”

Really? Like I can’t read? Or did he think I was lying to him? The nut.

• If you want to see a little dog flip completely out, watch while I start taking the toys out of Sasha’s crate. She goes nuts and frantically tries to grab them and haul them back in there as I’m working on it. Let me tell you, it is a battle of wills.
• I am proud to say I win. Usually.
• OK this is enough valuable information for now. I don’t want to get you all over stimulated and then tonight when you can’t sleep you’ll blame me.
• You know you will!

First of all I have been honored with a distinction of unequalled measure.  Witchypoo from over at Psychicgeek, has bestowed the coveted, (I’m guessing, cause gee, it’s really neato), Charming Award on me.  Yup.  It’s right here on me… trust me.  No, not really, you should probably never do that… at least with anything important.

Aaaaanywho, there are directions with it to confuse my mushy little brain astound and amaze us all.  Prepare to applaud, whilst I exersize my copying and pasting skills.

Charming Award!

Charming Award!

This award is given to the writers of blogs that “are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.”

Now, I am going to name my eight peeps and you really should stand and applaud.  Go ahead, nobody’s looking!  NO!  A golf clap will NOT do.  These kind souls deserve better than that!  I want to be able to hear it in south Texas.

That’s better.  (Cause I know you’re doing it, right?)

Ahem,

Angie of Big Hair Envy fame

Janet From The Planet of Janet

Tink at Pickled Beef

Kori at See Kori Rant

Predo at Spartacus Wore A Skirt

Karen at The Rocking Pony

Jean at Working Momma 247

Marylin at A Little Space For Me

THEN, as if this humongous privilege wasn’t enough, good ol’ Angie of Big Hair Envy tells me that she has drawn my name as one of the two winners of her “Pay it Forward” contest.

I am delighted about this and it’s going to be so much fun!

Here’s the exact, (cut and paste), wording of the famous Angie, herself, explaining the details of Pay It Forward.  It’s really quite easy.

I’m going to Pay It Forward to two commenter who leave me a message saying they would like to participate. I will randomly select the winners, and each will receive a gift from me! YAY! The only catch is that YOU must Pay It Forward on YOUR blog. Easy. Peasy.

Stay tuned for an episode of “Stupid Criminals” next time!

That thing has taken off like wildfire and I am SO happy for him.  I know he’s glad to get it out there and be done with the whole worry of what to do with it.  I’ve already ordered mine.  Go and get it!

Henrietta’s bed stopped working last night.  If you remember, it’s a hospital bed.  And if you’re new, my apologies while I whip out this fascinating story that, as per normal procedure, deals with an 86 year old woman, a wheelchair, diapers, poo, and bedpans. Eh…this is my life.

*sigh*

Anyway, I was scared she’d notice that she was being put to bed with it at an odd angle and not just raised up at the head with it bending in the middle.  I figured I’d find her in a heap at the foot of it this morning, but no.  She hadn’t worked her way that far down.

The problem was that it stopped raising and lowering after trying to lower the whole bed and only the foot went down.  Then, it wouldn’t move at all.  So after getting her fed, pooed, diapered, dressed, and drug into the wheelchair, the… bed maintenance man(?) showed up and literally beat hell out of a gizmo coming out of the motor with my hammer for about 20 minutes.

Nothing.

He finally decided to go out and get another foot board out of his box truck and replaced it and the whole thing finally went together as God intended all hospital beds to go together.

Of course Henrietta elected to sit in the room with us as this all took place and said at least one rosary while it was going on.  So I’m pretty sure she gets at least some of the credit for the repair.

I get credit for getting the poo smell out of the room with a can of Febreeze before the guy showed up.  Oh, that and finding a hammer for the only maintenance guy that shows up with no tools of his own.  A hammer that didn’t even fix the problem.

Remember the caregiver provider that worked for the other company that we were using and stole $100.00 out of my purse while I was taking a bath?  Well, I took another bath yesterday while Tanya was here and it was SO nice not to have to worry about anything.  And I’m not just saying that because I never have any money in my purse anymore, either!  Broke, broke, broke…

Our coffee maker has a water filter thing that is supposed to get changed every three months.  I just found the box I kept that the filter came in the last time I changed it and the date I had written on it was June 8, 2008?  Ten months.  It’s a wonder we’re all still alive.  John kinda freaked a tiny bit when I discovered it, but I wasn’t TRYING to kill us.  Sometimes it just works out that way.  It’s best if you can just handle these life and death situations with a chuckle.  (You pick that up around here after a while.)

Now!  In honor of my new camera, I have a few, widely varied pics to throw up, just simply because I can.  Observe.

John making a goofy face at me when I tell him to, “Look!” so I can get a truly candid “Him”. Yeah.  That’s about right…

“Seriously people, I just want to lie here and sleep. Get a life already.”

“Eh, I wasn’t kidding!”

This is truly one of my favorite finds lately.  Payless has this nifty little thingamajig for a mere $2.99 and it is a Godsend.  The sponge has some sort of oil(?) in it and it says on the bottom it is good for up to 100 uses.  You just wipe it over any leather or vinyl and it is shinier than you could ever do with anything else.  It is just as good as Armour All on the car dash and John’s dress shoes look much better than they ever looked with just shoe polish.  Also good on purses and leather jackets.  Love it!

We went downtown in Houston to the Medical Center to see one of John’s co-worker’s husband, who is in hospital with a brain aneurysm.  Spring is everywhere and I just couldn’t resist.  Sorry I didn’t crop out all the street first.  Oh well.

One of the older hospitals we drove by.  Apparently, it’s bigger than it looks.  That’s the tail roter and overhead blades of a helicopter on top of it.

And lastly, it’s probably poor form to take pictures of your spouse while he/she is sleeping, but I thought it was so funny that he had just consumed a brownie before bed and when I came in and looked at him there was irrefutable proof on his lip.  It looks kinda like a cold sore, but it’s not.  Just a treat for the morning…

Well folks, I warned you that it was random shit and I am a woman of my word.  I’m not going to apologize, you were warned.

Free toes, everybody!

Cam has been working on a project and it has been in the works for months.

He finished it up and originally posted on Monday, March 9, here.

The page views on that original post as of Friday is up to over 30,000 which does not take into consideration the countless tweets and blogs that link to the large version of the image directly and countless more linking to other blogs that have it on their sites.  To show you what I mean, this is a link to direct Google hits.

His two inboxes are full of requests for prints as well as multiple offers for printing.  A professor at Cal Tech wants the image in his next year’s 5th edition textbook “Visual Communication Images with Messages” to which Cam already replied “Of course!”.

A company is interested in creating a large wall decal of the image.

He is holding out for his favorite printing company Hammerpress.  He is in talks with the owner and waiting (im)patiently for the final details.

I cannot believe the stir he’s caused in the world of graphic design.  All this from the little brother who’s toothbrush I used, in days gone by, to clean the grout around the toilet.

No, I am really SO very proud of him and can’t wait to see how all this unfolds.  When you click on the links, be sure and read all the comments.  He really is a quite amazing guy.

Now I bet he’s gonna want to be paid for any blog work I get… Sheesh.

The last one was uncharacteristically long.  More than, probably anyone wanted to hear from me.   I was full of angst. (That’s my excuse, in case you didn’t know.)

Mither and Pop are coming to see me and they are on their way here RIGHT NOW.  I gots to get this dump cleaned up!  Change the sheets on their bed!  Start a grocery list for supper tonight!  Clean the bathtub!  Finish the laundry!  Locate all obscene graffiti written in the dust on my furniture and add or subtract letters to make it more grandparent friendly.

FIND MY DAMN GLASSES.  They are gone, people!  I have looked everywhere!  Remember, I just got them a short while back and I cannot function for very long without having to actually READ something.  I took them off when John got home yesterday and they have been gone ever since.  I cannot remember where I was!

Oh crap!  I gotta get going!  Before I do I will share with you that I have a new look coming for HalfAsstic and am excited about it.  Cam is working on it as I type.  Well, actually, that’s not true as he’s in Italy and is seven hours ahead of us, (he’s asleep), but he’s already done some things that I really like.

Anyway, stay tuned!

Free Toes, everybody!

Speaking of my brother, look at my masthead.  He Christmatized it!  The bag of coal is to be expected… he is, after all, my bratty, baby brother.

John is only off one day this week and he’s already had it.  We had a good time and even went to see another movie!  I have seen more movies this year than I have seen in the past 10.  Why?  I don’t even know.  And I don’t really care, I’m liking the trend.

We saw Four Christmas’s and it was really funny.  I used to really just not like Vince Vaughn, but he’s grown on me and I thought he and Reese Witherspoon were both very funny in this.

John and I rode around running errands listening to a Simon and Garfunkel CD and then moved on to John Fogerty.

We stopped at one place so I could buy a new curling iron and when we got home I was throwing away the packaging when I happened to notice the… directions.  Yes, curling irons need directions.  I know.  I was a bit amazed by this, but that’s nothing when you actually consider what they say.

Did you know that, among other things, you are not supposed to bathe while curling your hair?  NO!  Really!  You’re not!  Shocking, I know.  (heh heh…shocking…)

Also, apparently you are not to ever, under any circumstances, consider using this appliance while sleeping.  Ever.

It is very specific when it says that the iron is hot when in use and not to use it against your skin or eyes.

Ya think?

I know it is a lot to remember, but I plan to spend a good deal of my “free time” (BAHAHAHAHAH), studying this instruction booklet until I am certain that the next time I take the curling iron to bed with me I know exactly how to use it safely.

When we came home from all the errand running and movie going, John painted my toenails!  Does it get any better?  I think not.

Needless to say there were green beans for supper!  heh heh heh On the down side… I think I screwed up my nails… OH WELL.

The Boyfriend had some dental work done yesterday and Kes is over at his house today.  She’s basically out of school for the rest of the semester and enjoying the freedom.  Now if she can just get her pharmacy tech test taken and get a job as one all will be good with her.

Keelan has started forgetting to take her medicine and is showing the effects.  She is being a “Bee-otch Extraordinaire”.   When she is rude and snaps at me on the phone, my first reaction is to tell her to come straight home… only I don’t want her HERE.  Not under those circumstances!  I have been leaving her notes to take the stupid pill and she was doing it, but, all of the sudden the notes aren’t enough to do it.  The notes were necessary in the first place because it got her all cranky for me to tell her to take it, verbally.  (Teenager)  So now we are just moving on to me showing up with the pill in hand and saying something to the effect of, “Here, take this damn thing before I kill you.”  You’d think this would be effective… Sometimes it is.

Henrietta is doing OK, this morning she asked me, “Krissa, do you think (SIL) has my big booty?”

You could have heard paint dry.  “What?”

“You know… my big bootie, I crocheted…”

It’s dawning on me at this point… “The big Christmas stocking?”

“YEEEEES!”

OK, so this is somehow comforting to me.  The “big booty” is indeed a croched stocking and not the emaciated, wrinkled up arse of Henrietta.

And to answer the original question. No, SIL has no idea where H’s “big booty” is.

But I know where mine is.

First of all I would like to thank my brother, Cam for updating everyone during my absence.  I really hope he only chokes a little on the vino he’s going to be drinking in beautiful Italy this weekend.  heh heh heh

Love ya Cam!

Today is September 27 and we just got internet up and working as of yesterday.  Two weeks after the stupid storm!  I started transcribing a post from a pile of scraps of paper onto Word Friday of last week, (when we got electricity back), and am keeping my fingers crossed that I will be able to successfully copy and paste it to the WordPress thingy which acts strangely at best due to the fact that I am cursed with Vista.

Here goes nothing!

Hello there, interwebs! I am back, finally, and I missed you all! I am starting this on Friday, September 19, 2008 and am a bit flummoxed at the thought of trying to get caught up. Luckily, I jotted down notes here and there during the last few days. Following this paragraph is a fairly random collection of them starting Friday afternoon, Sept. 12, the day hurricane Ike laid us out. We just got electricity back at about 12:30 in the afternoon, yesterday. Six days after it went out. And while I know we have so very much to be grateful for and are truly blessed to have survived virtually unscathed, I can’t help but point out that living in this humidity and heat, without floor to ceiling windows on all the exterior walls, is a gruesome ordeal that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Well, OK, maybe that would be the perfect kinda conditions for my worst enemy, but my point remains that I can’t imagine hating anyone with that much intensity…you get my drift?

6:00pm Friday evening- the power company cuts the electricity. Winds are starting to pick up just a bit and we all know the big ones are coming. The preemptive electric outage is to keep people from injury, (and certain death), when the lines fall.

The following night is harrowing. H is given an Adivan and sleeps through the entire thing. (Thank you God, for Adivan.)

Apparently I will take anyone or anything in to shelter through a hurricane including, but not limited to, stray dogs and a 6 ½ foot red tailed boa.

The poor dog was left here when his crumby owners evacuated. They left the gate open and left. Just like that. The other neighbors and I were talking about it and the fact that one sweet lady down the street had taken him in. This was Friday afternoon and Ike was due to show up that night. She was saying that her chocolate Labrador was trying to tear down the door to the room where she had the dog, so I offered to take him off her hands until after the whole dealy-o blew over. He really was sweet and well behaved, just scared to death of everybody AS IF HE HAD BEEN ABUSED. The deal was that the house next to us on the corner with the trio of sweet little girls was going to take him in when it was over. Of course the next day my daughter’s boyfriend left the gate open and the dog went in the backyard via the doggy door and promptly left. So, in the rain, John and I drove around the neighborhood until we found him and I got out IN THE RAIN AND CHASED AND BEGGED AND PLEADED AND CONJOLED, and yes, cursed, that dog into letting me catch him and haul him into the car, (where anybody would want a wet dog).

I then took him to the little girls and dumped him on them. They were delighted and I still haven’t gotten any evil looks from their mother so, here’s hoping…

Keelan has a friend of some standing…with her at least. Anyway, this kid has a large family with three cars between them and other pets involved and he claimed that there wasn’t room for the tank that accommodates the huge ass snake and, of course, not the snake either. Am I easy or what? NO. Don’t answer that!

Saturday AM- It is rapidly becoming evident that I will be requiring a shower every 15 to 20 minutes. The temperature is hovering in the low 90’s with 110% humidity. From our front yard the neighborhood looks like….Bosnia. A total war zone. I turned to John and said, “Honey, I don’t think you’ll make it into work today…”

Big Mess! Hot, so very hot. The power lines are all underground in our neighborhood, but the one next to us has huge trees snapped off halfway up and just flipped up with gigantic root balls sticking up in the air. They are all laid over on the power lines. We can’t get into it for all the debris so we just drive by looking in from the road betweenus.

All we could hear was the constant chainsaw and generator noise backed by the incessant drone of emergency vehicle sirens and low flying news choppers with the occasional med-a-vac , Army and Coast Guard helicopter thrown in for good measure. All the windows are open and there is hardly a breath of air moving through this house. It is stifling.

Last night we had hurricane and, of course all the windows were closed tight and most were boarded up.I set the thermostat extremely low in the house during the day so it would be a cool as possible when we lost the lights. The cool air lasted partially through the night.

Well, when Henrietta said she was ready to go to bed I rolled her in there and got her ready and she said, “Oh, close the window, Krissa.” I said, no, we really would have to leave them open because it was too hot in the house with it closed. “Oh Noooo! I’m fine! Really! I’ll be all right. Just close the window. “ No, Henrietta. You’re room is directly across from ours and in order for us to have any kind of ventilation at all we need your window open. Then, (very pointedly ignoring what I have explained and attempting to act as if it is beyond her comprehension), “Oh no, Krissa. I CANNOT HAVE THE WINDOW OPEN. No, no… I never have and I don’t want it open.” By this time John showed up and backed me with the whole argument. She see’s that she’s not going to get her way….at least not easily, so she turns on the tears. We both stand firm and she shuts them off. I swear it’s like flipping a damn switch. I left the tacky venetian blinds she insists on having drawn at all times down and closed and had to sneak back in and open them when she was asleep.

I am told by my mother on my cell phone that we are supposed to be boiling our drinking water for 1 minute. So I am boiling huge pots of water on the stove to pour in the sink and wash dishes in. Thank God, we have a gas stove.

The entire house gets significantly hotter when you are boiling huge pots of water on the stove with no A/C.

You really can make coffee by pouring boiling water into a carafe with coffee and letting it sit for a bit and then pouring this disgusting looking sludge through a filter into a cup. I found that using a paper towel worked even better than a filter because it would conform to the shape of the cup better.

I would kill for an old fashioned board game of some kind. As of two garage sales ago, we got rid of all of ours.

By the time there was enough trees moved for us to make it off of our block, (a day later) we decided to try to make it to our friends house a few neighborhoods over. They had evacuated and had asked us if we could check on their house the first chance we got.

Our neighborhood has all the electrical and phone lines underground, but the one next to ours has even more mature trees and it’s all above ground. At least every other house had a huge tree either broken in two and lying on the lines and/or house or the trees were just lying over with a gigantic root ball pulled up and sticking in the air. It was crazy. We weren’t able to make it by our friend’s house that day or the next as there was no way to get there. The streets were impassable immediately around it. John finally got by a few days later on his way to work. Thankfully, they had no flooding and no trees on their house.

ALMOST OUT OF COFFEE.

You CAN read trashy novels by candlelight. NO, it doesn’t make sweating your body weight romantic.

My neighbors really are wonderful people and we all pull together really well when there is an emergency.

One really bizarre, other worldly experience was realizing that even three days after it was all over, there were still no birds/bird sounds or flying bugs. Saturday afternoon I went with John up to the grocery store he manages to see how bad it was or wasn’t and as we were driving through the parking lot I saw a baby egret sitting on one of those big metal grid storm drains. It just sat there as we passed by it and had one leg down in the hole and the other one clutching the grate. I thought it was stuck and had John stop and I got out and went over to it, picked it up and the poor thing just looked at me. It was clearly in shock. I believe it was thinking something to the tune of, “What the hell. Of course the human lady will pick me up. After the night I’ve had, what else could I expect? This is nothing”. I carried it over and put it in some bushes and it immediately scrambled under them better.

What is it with me and strange baby birds? Owls, Egrets, what next?

Sunday – John goes back to work and it’s a hell hole. Everything was wiped out, pretty much before he left on Thursday. The benevolent souls at the top of the corporate ladder, (or whoever), decided to actually close the store on the Friday of the storm. I must say that this surprised me somewhat as the storm was due to show up fairly late that evening. Believe me when I say that if Walmart or Target had stayed open, they would have, also. The thought was that they wouldn’t let the managers go in time for them to evacuate their families, so they would give them a few hours head start on getting their houses boarded up before the wind got there. And that, my friends, is as much as can ever be expected of these people. John had worked 12 hour day’s everyday that week in preparation for the storm, as had the other managers at all the stores on the gulf coast in the chain. When they got back to work on Sunday, they spent the greatest part of the day throwing out every last parcel of meat, frozen and refrigerated food. I came to find out the generator only runs a few lights and the registers if the power goes out and that’s all it did. They reopened with virtually empty shelves and zero meat, dairy and frozen foods.

People were understanding and patient, helpful to each other about information and standing in line.

Over the next few days things really went downhill fast. Trucks arrived as often as they could possibly get there and it became harder and harder to explain why WHEN EVERYONE RUNS OUT OF THEIR REFRIGERATED ITEMS AT THE SAME TIME IT IS VIRTUALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO SUPPLY THE DEMAND. Not to mention the bread everyone was going through, along with chips and snack items, etc.

Sunday night- Henrietta apparently has given some thought to the window situation and feels she did not put on her best performance last night. Tonight, she pulls out all the stops. She announces that she can’t sleep like that and she woke up afraid over and over last night. Bullshit. Not a chance. She NEVER wakes up when she’s taken an Adivan and she would have rung her bell if she was the least bit afraid. She argues with us both about it and continues to insist the window has to be down. She apparently has absolutely no regard for how anyone else might feel or how much sleep her own son may or may not get before he trudges off to work like a dog for 12 to 14 hours. Finally she tells us that we are abusing her by leaving her window open and I have had it. I got in her face and John looked l at her like he was going to explode. I unloaded a bit and she started to dry up some. There really is no end to her selfishness when it comes to her own little wants and paranoia’s. Needless to say her window stayed open. She told me to “Pleeeeease keep me blinds down, Krissa!” I certainly will. Until you are asleep…

Monday- There is not a word from her about the window or the blinds or anything else at bedtime. Halleluiah!

And the rest of the time until the lights are back on, (Friday), she doesn’t say another word about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I will post the rest of the… story tomorrow and add the missing pictures.  Come to find out they are riding around in John’s pocket on his jump drive and he is at work, (where else).  I’ll get them when he gets home.  Things are still very disorganized around here and I’m having a hard time getting back in the normal groove.  Sorry.