Christmas Vakay Days Fifteen and Sixteen

So, before I talk about what’s going on right now….I have to tell ya’ll… I now understand why people who read this blog feel like they know me. I have been looking for a picture this morning that I thought I had put here, but apparently did not, and so I have been scanning old entries. I’ve gone as far back as 2008. Not in entirety, I mean. I used specific search queries. But dang. I talk about a lot of stuff here. I used to take a lot of pictures. But…I manage to write like this because I pretend in my head that no one reads it. So it always surprises me when someone says, “I read it on your blog.” And the other thing…my memory isn’t getting any better. So…yeah, just because I wrote it and you read it doesn’t mean I will remember it. The good news is…the blog, when I am actively blogging, serves as a good reminder..a diary type thing. Damn, I remember someone telling me…….yes, it was That One. He said write stuff down. You’d think I could do that on paper, and I do journal most mornings. But mostly I write about how I suck and my never shrinking to do list and …….it’s very negative, in general. Why is that?

Oops, waxing philosophical this morning. Also, I am noting that since I set my desk up in here, I am living in my room again. That has to stop. Ok, on to the pictures–which by the way I am really enjoying getting back into the practice of! oooh, a dangling participle. Muahahahahahahaha!

December 27th, we had Christmas. See the stockings? And family time in various colorful boxes.



On the 28th, the day got disrupted around 3, when my 19 year old called to tell me the ex had had a stroke. This information proved to be not quite accurate. He’s having seizures. I packed a purse with my knitting and my tablet and I spent the rest of the evening at the hospital. I stayed until he was admitted and in his actual room, and his glasses were delivered, which he apparently lost in a convulsion. Then I came home.

hospital knitting

I need to find that man a wife. I am all about fulfilling duty and doing what has to be done….but this weighs on me. It is difficult to trust myself to make right choices for him when I cannot bear to speak to him. I know me, and I know that I will make the right choices, but this…having to watch myself from a position outside myself….it’s stressful. And I have had to do it twice since our divorce.