I'm not exactly sure where my camera is at this point in time—suffice to say somewhere in the house. I am typing this with a very loudly purring cat curled up on my arm. Greymalkin has been making herself known a lot lately. When Eddie died, she decided to get on our bed for the first time. Now that Rocky has died, she has to be on one of us almost all the time. We probably won't get another cat for awhile, because each time we lose one, Greymalkin changes her behavior.
There is really not a whole lot to report. You know if anyone actually reads this blog. The remodel hasn't had anything new happen for a few weeks. Jeff is finished with the spring semester on Friday, so maybe things will start to happen. BUT, softball starts really soon, so nothing might happen. D and I have another four weeks of school. We both finish on May 22, just in time for Memorial Day weekend. The people around here have a major problem if students have to continue into June. I've grown used to it—you know that 17 years being here thing, but it still seems strange to not go until June.
I finish at the U this week. I have classes on Wed., and Thurs., and my term paper for one class is due by 5 on Friday and everything for the other class is due on Saturday. I don't know how to go to school and not work full time, but this semester has been hard. I won (earned) a scholarship for next year, so I have to take three classes a semester. I haven't decided if I will take the summer off or not. I registered for a class for the summer, but can always drop it. The class I would take in the summer is one I could take in the fall, but I found a class to take in the fall to replace it. I don't know whether to work on the house and lesson plans for next year over the summer or do those things
and take a class. So many decisions. Jeff and I have to talk it over, plus I need to talk with my adviser at the U. The department I am earning my degree in is a part Ed. Psych., Education, and Linguistics. With all the budget cuts, it is being absorbed by the College of Ed. No one in the department is happy. I, however, need to find out how this absorption affects my degree program.
My mother remains in a care facility receiving physical therapy twice a day to help her nerves regrow. I am clearly not the best daughter in the world. My sister would be calling my mother everyday to chat. I just don't have that in me. My aunt calls my mom and visits too. Obviously I can't visit, but I just don't have that much to say. In my mind (and I have thought this for a long time—three years) the wrong daughter died. The one who called everyday and checked in was not me. I will go to my grave believing that my sister should not have died and if anyone was going to, it should have been me.
I did get the book my mother wanted and will try to ship it off this week along with the Girl Scout cookies she ordered before her surgery from hell. I also need to round up the scrapbooking mysteries I have been reading lately and send her those as well. They are pretty lighthearted and entertaining to boot. I wanted to send her a cd player, but she was afraid it would be stolen. My parents have learned, from Jane's long stays in nursing homes, that if it is something valuable it will probably be stolen by a nurse. Actually we have know this since my grandfather died back in 1979. His wedding ring was stolen in the
one week he was in a nursing home. Hard to believe that in June it will be thirty years since I graduated from junior high and he died (one week later).
Well more later. This will be a hectic week, with finishing school, soccer games, Scouts, and all the other activities that are part of our lives.
