January 3

These days I find myself opening my eyes between three and five AM,  caught between the reality of wake and the ethereal world of sleep. Prayers for the sick are always on my mind and I breathe petitions to Heaven on behalf of those I love and cherish. Daddy, Auntie K, Aunt Jo Ann, Sheila, the Mr.'s friend, my best friend's son. The list goes on and seems to get longer with each day. Yesterday was one of those days. I woke up extremely early, prayed awhile, fell back asleep, and then woke abruptly to the alarm. The girls were on their way. I had promised long ago that this day I would keep them while their dad had an errand to run. So up I was, in a hurry to make up for lost time, because I had snoozed once or twice, but they were already at the door. It was seven AM and we went right into breakfast time. The girls love to help me cook breakfast. They know just what to do and where everything is located. Today Arya cracked and whipped the eggs for the scramble. Claire made the biscuits all by herself with my direction. That is, after I popped the can she arranged them on the tray and put them in the oven, as I opened the door and made room for her, warning her to be wary of the heat. We watched a few minutes of TV after breakfast cleanup, but eventually we found ourselves in the sunny office, girls coloring and drawing with sharpies, and the Mr. and I sitting opposite each other, chatting, and drinking coffee while I clipped his toenails. It was a very domestic scene, and everybody was content, just enjoying the morning. We had planned to take them to the trampoline park, but when they got here they were wearing jeans and long pants, which aren't good for jumping, so we decided not to mention that we had planned to go there, and stay in instead. No one was the wiser and in the end it was a good choice. Watching them both quietly drawing, I was amazed at how far they have come. From scrawls to actual drawings that look like reasonable facsimiles of whatever they are seeing in their heads or copying, their skills are greatly improving. Today Arya was drawing a picture, complete with color, of the stuffed butterfly she had arrived with, and been clutching like a teddy bear all morning. And I have to say, it was really good! Claire was practicing drawing poodles. Oodles of poodles. And they looked exactly like poodles! She was very proud and proceeded to give the Mr. a tutorial about how to draw a poodle, line by line and loop by loop, with a pause after a small mistake, to make sure he understood that there are no mistakes in art. That is a direct quote from me, and clearly she has been listening! I told Katie all about her poodle tutorial later that day, and she told me that Claire has been watching drawing tutorials. She did sound very Bob Rossish, as she gave instruction to the Mr. I am intrigued at the skills that are developing in my grandchildren. I hear Arya singing and I wonder if she will be a singer, because her voice, though still childish and untrained, is beautiful. Claire has an affinity for drawing, and she is also very good at math. She can also dance. It is exciting to watch who they will become emerge as they grow up. 

I got a call from Jo that Daddy would be discharged from the hospital today, and I think she was hoping I could bring him home, but I had the girls, so I couldn't do it, being that they are three hours away from me. Apparently the other sisters weren't available, and she didn't know what she was going to do. I didn't know what to do either. In addition to that, he was stranded without any clothes or shoes. His clothes had been taken home by Sheryl to be washed and although maybe not forgotten about, she hadn't had time to do them, I gathered, because her granddaughter was sick and she had been up all night with her. I gleaned all that from the text she sent. I thought about Uber for his ride home, but that seems to be beyond Dad and Jo. Anything new confuses them. Even if I called for it and paid for it, finding the car would be too much for them, so I abandoned that idea after broaching it. Then I suggested their friend and neighbor across the street, whose name is Chris. He has been a Godsend to them. He checks in on them, makes sure they are Ok, gets anything they need, however, he has a young family and a full time job, and he works nights. After I brought him up, Jo, put that idea down because of his crazy work schedule. I moved on to how to get Dad some clothes, figuring we would get the ride thing worked out later. So I got his sizes, shirt, shorts, underwear, and we called in an order to Walmart. I figured this would be a great time to show Dad how easy it is to order stuff and have it come to you, rather than driving to get things, because frankly, Dad driving scares the crap out of me, to put it crudely. His BP has been running so low that he can't walk sometimes, but he is still driving Jo to all of her doc appointments and to the store. 

However my attempt at ease of delivery fell flat, as the delivery guy was a complete moron. He couldn't find what we ordered, so he abandoned the entire order except the underwear and the underwear he bought were for a much smaller man than my six foot three dad. Womp womp. 

Then while I was pondering that, I got another call from Jo, saying Chris was taking her to the hospital, with some clothes and shoes, but he had a meeting at the post office, first. Only I had forgotten about Chris across the street, I thought she was talking about Chris her grandson. Last I heard Chris the grandson was working for a minor league hockey team, and I couldn't, for the life of me figure out why he had to go to a meeting at the post office. Was he moonlighting?  I couldn't picture it, and I pondered this awhile after I hung up with her. 

But then things became clear and I had to laugh my head off. I texted Sheryl (Chris the grandson's mom) and she said NO, the NEIGHbor! OH! Hahahaha! NOW it makes sense! So I guess Jo had taken my idea and run with it after all. I was glad to hear he was driving her, but perplexed that they were driving Dad's truck and that he was only dropping Jo off. Dad still had no ride home, unless he drove himself. And that was his plan. I tried to talk him out of it. I told him I would come get him, but they didn't want to wait the hour or so it would take me to get there. The hospital released him knowing he would drive himself home, so I shut up and did a lot of praying. And he made it home OK. 

I did find out in the earlier conversation with Jo that they have let the Meals on Wheels go, and also their home health lady, God knows why, so I am cooking for them again, because Dad can't stand up long enough to cook and neither can Jo. What they are eating is basically chicken nuggets. The food I cooked them last summer is long gone and they are requesting more sausage balls, so I am ON IT. 

So in the middle of all this the girls went home and I went to Walmart with the Mr.  We had some pictures printed and got the groceries for cooking for Dad and then I came home and made our own dinner. I was worn out by then and in lots of pain, so I pretty much just sat around and watched Chateau videos on You tube until bedtime. 

Waking up this morning, early again, Auntie Kathy was on my mind. Her large, very large, front window has blown completely out and shattered in the high wind we had last week. I hoped every day for a week that some random person would just show up and fix it so I wouldn't have to, but that was not reality. I knew we needed to do something, and today was the day. I was making a mental list of what would be needed for the job before I even opened my eyes. Ladder. Measuring tape. Screwdriver. Screws. Drill bits. After looking at the picture she sent I added Miter box, because, as the Mr. pointed out, there was a piece of wood missing from the top of the window. 

I was kind of stressed about this project, because I know how this tends to go. I tell myself it isn't going to be too difficult, I arrive, it's much more involved that I originally thought, the Mr. and I argue and get angry with each other, we dig in and get it done, then go home exhausted. That's not particular to Auntie Kathy's problem, that is how it goes with just about every project we set out to do together. Today we started out with no food. By the time we got there to measure the window we were both hangry. The eight foot ladder was insufficient to reach the top of the window. We needn't have worried about the miter box, because even with the twelve foot ladder she provided, we were still far from the top. We measured and rounded off to the nearest round number, and then we went to Home Depot. The window was 100 inches by 48 inches. MUCH larger than I had surmised. Our plan was to just cover the entire window with plexiglass on the outside, but when we saw the price of a sheet of Plexiglass, just big enough to cover the entire window without cutting, we waffled. $200 dollars!

So we settled on a piece of ribbed plastic, with air pockets in it. It was not thin, it was about an eighth or so of an inch thick, and lightweight. We high fived ourselves, and asked someone that worked there where we could get it cut in half, because we didn't think it would fit in our car. Our hopes fell flat as they told us that OSHA would not let them cut it in the store. So we had to buy a knife and a yardstick and cut it ourselves. And that is just about where it all fell apart in the Home Depot parking lot, with two by now very hangry people who just wanted to get the job done and had just spent 140 dollars we had not planned on spending. It wouldn't fit in the back of the car by far. It hung way out. So the Mr. went in and got a large cart, and we laid it down right there, measured the halfway point, cut that sucker in half, bent the pieces in half and stuffed it in the back of the vehicle. 

On the way over we made our apologies and vowed to do better. And it did go better. We arrived and the Mr. got up on the ladder, which was very precarious, as the ground was soft. We took off the old screen and the glass began crashing down all around us. It was very old, thick glass, and full of all kinds of sharpie sharpies. One very large piece remained hung up, and he had to break it to get it to fall. I walked around picking up all the little bits and bobs that had fallen, as well as the larger pieces, and collecting them into a box to be thrown away. As careful as I was, I still ended up with some snicks in my fingers. I didn't care. I was just relieved that nobody had been seriously injured by flying glass. Also I didn't say anything to Auntie K, but I know the Mr., since his transplant, is terrified of falling. I gave him silent kudos because I knew what this was costing him to be on that ladder. We raised the first sheet, and I handed him the screwdriver with the screws and he screwed it in on his side. He then handed me the screwdriver, and I, on the other ladder, but lower down, did the same. We did this until we had reached as high as we could go, the Mr. almost at the top of the twelve footer, stretching over his head and away to get the last screws in. But at last it was done. It wasn't beautiful, but it wouldn't be noticed from the street that it wasn't real glass. 

We picked up the tools loaded up the car, said our goodbyes and then set out to find some groceries. In the south, that means food in our bellies. 

We did it. She was happy. I was relieved that the coming rain wouldn't find her getting wet inside the house. The Mr. was happy to be going home. 

As I stood out there on the ladder, watching the Mr., my mind went back to yesterday. I had shown the girls the toy closet, where all of their toys are kept, and how I had cleaned it up and rearranged all of their games and puzzles on the shelf in a neat and orderly fashion. They were impressed but Arya had some words of wisdom for me. She said Gramma, you are too OLD to be working so hard! You need to rest! Between the two of those girls, (Claire taking me by the hand as we walked down the stairs a few weeks ago, Grandma let me hold your hand, because you are VERY old!) they are going to have me in a wheelchair before the end of the year! I laughed hysterically when she said that to me. But maybe she isn't far off. Hmmm...

If only Arya could have seen me today! 

Tomorrow, church, possibly with the girls, and I need to clean my office, and of course start the cooking for Dad. I think I will see him sometime this week, or next weekend. Aunt JoAnn is coming to visit and I would like to time my visit accordingly, however, I am worried that if I don't get there sooner with the food, they will be subsisting on only chicken nuggets this week. 

I will make that decision tomorrow after a phone call or two. 

But now it's almost midnight. I have had a very large coffee not long ago, which is why I am still typing, and why this post is so very long. My brain is on fire, but I had better sleep. I am sure I will be awake sometime between three and five AM.