Blast to the past: my year abroad (part 1)

I thought this would be a two paragraph explanation for 'why didn't you go to class while abroad' along with a description of what I did with my time when I studied abroad in Ireland my junior year, '91-'92. Well, two paragraphs weren't enough. 

CLASSES:  Our American academic system is structured differently from theirs. We were labelled occasional students. The Irish students sat exams at the end of each year of college to see if they'd pass to the next year. When we asked what year are you, it was common to hear:  First year, 2nd time repeating. Or Second year, 3rd time repeating. There were also clerics, because part of the school was a seminary. 

***As an aside:  In my journal:  'I bumped into Derek the cleric . . .' I dated an Irish guy named Derek, so attaching 'the cleric' to the other Derek's name cleared up any confusion. Neither, believe it or not, was a saint. ***

Bringing the coal
 in from the bin.

Many of my classes were big lectures. I might be asked to write an additional paper, but we weren't sitting the cumulative exams in May- so academics felt a bit more relaxed. I had small tutorials that I rarely, or never missed. I def did go to the big lectures often, but I didn't sweat missing a class if I wanted to hitch hike across the country and missing a class made that easier. While at school in South Bend, I never missed a class unless I was ill. 

Classes were small, so I suspect my letters about skipping classes was partly because it was the beginning of the school year and I was like, I'M DIGGING THIS LOW PRESSURE SYSTEM. 

We also had an Irish Culture class that was just for the 21 Notre Dame/Saint Mary's students on our program. That was Tuesday evenings, and we all attended that - somewhat mandatory. Our program director taught it, and it was sort of her way of checking up on us, giving us updates on class trips, etc. We had no email. No phones. No television (not that we would communicate through the television, but as an example of what life was like). We had to start a fire in the fireplace to warm our house. I shared my house with 3 other SMC girls. 

THE BEST OF TIMES:  I rank my year abroad as one of the greatest

I'm not in this one - I took the pic.

experiences of my life. Most of what I learned took place outside the classroom. In my spare time (might've been doing some of the following if I missed a big lecture), I wrote a million letters to friends, family, and the moms I babysat for. I wrote in my journal daily. I prepared my own food, which was nothing amazing. We're talking cup of soup or mince meat (the Irish refer to ground beef) and pasta. 

Based on journal entries, I also slept a lot . . . after being out very late, or staying up half the night chatting with friends or boyfriends in my house or theirs. The pub closed early, at like 10. Imagine my shock the first time the barkeep started flipping the stools onto the table tops, calling:  RIGHT THERE NOW LADIES AND GENTS, LAST CALL FOR ALCOHOL. Supposedly the early closing time is because no one would go to work if the pub was open later. 

Photo of me hitching. From my photo album -
I put newspaper headlines in my
 photo album. I love looking back at it.

We attended bar extensions on campus at the student union. Legal permission was needed to keep the bar open. Those were about once a month on a Wednesday. Many students went home on the weekend to help on the farm, or save money, or eat meals at home, etc. Wednesday bar extensions were the highlight of our social lives, where the blaring disco music vibrated in my bones. 

I traveled - hitched everywhere (no longer safe). I hung out with my roomies, who were from the States, and I became very tight with a group of girls from Ireland. I stayed up late hanging out with them. One was a bridesmaid in our wedding. We're still in touch. I saw her for the first time in 20 years when Tank studied in Limerick.

Every night, almost without fail, we walked to the pub, The Roost. It was about a 30  minute walk from our house. Everyone went to the pub at night, not just students. It was the socially the thing to do. Who needs tv when you can sit at the pub surrounded by friends and 'share the news.' 

I didn't want to come home. 

As with all great experiences, there's more to share. Till next time. 

*****

Did you ever study abroad, or live in a different culture? How did you keep friends with the same name straight? Did you or would you ditch large letcures?

Calling a spade a spade & how it feels not to matter

I apologize for the length. I'm really struggling. 

As far as the strain, or dissolution, of the relationship with my sisters - nothing has changed. Forever:  they've mistreated me, judged me, pouted when they can't control me. 

I've exposed the reality that I've lived with for so long. They may have 'spoken' words to me when I hosted my entire side for Christmas, but they haven't spoken to me from a place of 'I care about you' for a long, long time. Now that I've said, 'I think your behavior is unacceptable', they've spiraled. 

Unrelated, or is it? I saw this
 on a car and it made me laugh. 

So be it. Long time coming, etc.

My theories:  

1. LACK OF FAMILY SYSTEM:  I think my sisters never created their own family system. They rely on my parents' guidance and 'word' before they make a move. 

    Exhibit A:  Marie took her kid to 15 colleges back when she was a senior in HS under the premise of, You can choose one. In the 11th hour, Marie told said kid You can only go to this school or that school. Her kid was furious. (this was not a case of THIS SCHOOL HAS OFFERED YOU MORE MONEY, etc.). That all happened, because Nana (my mom) told Marie that she thought said kid should go to x school. 

    Exhibit B:  Years ago when my nephews were like 6th & 4th grade (they're now 31 and 29), Ann took them for haircuts. The hairdresser spiked the front of their hair. Ann brought them to show my folks their new style. Nana didn't like it spiked. The next day was picture day at school. The boys had been excited to spike their hair for pictures. Ann changed her mind - wouldn't let them, because Nana didn't like it. Her boys flipped out. 

    Meanwhile:  YEARS AGO . . . Dad decided to come and sit at my dinner table. Coach worked late. Dad thought my kids were unruly because they needed a male at the table. Initially I welcomed the 'help', but to be clear - my kids are full of personality and loud and dinners were nuts, but rarely totally out of control. 

Dad insisted the kids speak in quiet tones, one at a time. Ordered them to stay in chairs, etc. It was mostly in fun, like he wasn't screaming at them. I was embracing it, thinking I'd scored extra time with my dad. A rarity. 

During one of these dinners, Dad turned to Ed and said, "Why are you so skinny?" Then he turned to Lad, "And why are you so fat?" Lad was probably in 6th grade. I about died.

The next day, I called and told my dad I was changing the code to the garage door and that he was not welcome at our dinner table, because of the mean comment he made to Lad. 100% Dad didn't 'think' his comment was mean. He thought he was being playful/funny. 

My parents also called me once - maybe a year later. They hopped on two extensions. Their message was that Lad was getting too big, and they suggested I make him start walking or running around the block x number of times. Lad was involved in a ton of sports. He was about to have a growth spurt. I was like I'm not doing that. 

The point - if I was like my sisters, I would've accepted their 'you're kid is fat' comment as truth. Fortunately, I did create my own family system. People are held accountable. Each kid is celebrated for their uniqueness. 

    Now that my folks are failing, my sisters are struggling - feeling unmoored. 

2. INABLITIY TO RESOLVE CONFLICT:  When I called them up in '22 and said SO, WHAT'D YA THINK ABOUT MY PUBLISHED STORY? both my sisters hung up on me. They refused to converse or express feelings, never giving me a chance to say MY INTENTION WAS NOT TO HURT YOU WHEN I TOLD THIS FUNNY STORY. 

   

My sisters have always turned to Nana to complain. Nana has always validated their grievances and rallied to console them, sided with them, attempted to fix things, or something. Now that Nana has Alzheimer's, they've lost their go-to when conflict arises. 

So, when I called B.S. on their crap Dec. 26th, they couldn't cope. They only know how to talk smack behind my back, to one another, to Mom (no longer an audience). Voicing issues or addressing situations cripples them. 

I think my sisters don't like how our folks have embraced the adoption. My folks' parenting style is favoritism based. TBH I feared Dad would say "What? You can't adopt kids - how will you afford that?" Gaining his praise was not a motivator in the adoption equation, but he's showered us with praise. 

My dad has said "You're sisters are just jealous." Really? Of what? I could strip naked and run around the block and get more attention with less stress than my current situation. In reality, they prob fear that I might infringe on their rank. As if. I'm not moving off of the bottom rung and that's fine with me.  

UNHEART:  Pat texted in the family group chat last week that he's putting down a deposit on a memory care facility. My sisters will not be involved in a group chats that I'm included in. Ann 'loved the message'. Moments later she must've recognized that it was not the new group chat without me, so she 'unloved the message.' I died laughing. 

Earlier in the summer, Dad asked me for a copy of my published story. He read it and said he found it funny, and wasn't sure what Marie found mean. He admitted that he never read it when I sent him the link in 2022. Yesterday, I stopped by to visit my folks. He had the copy of the story with red marks on it. 

He asked me "What does the title 'Driving Bird Girl' have to do with running over the mailbox?" I told him it was creative writing. He told me that describing Marie flapping her arms when she was upset was mean. That mentioning her little kid hairstyle was mean. 

I told him not reading a story I had published back in '22 was mean. 

THE STORY OF MARIE RUNNING OVER THE MAILBOX WAS OVER 40 YEARS AGO - WHO CANNOT LAUGH AT HOW THEY WORE THEIR HAIR BACK THEN? Bottom line, he must've asked Marie to tell him what parts she found mean. Now he finds these parts mean. 

My dad is 86. He's in poor health. I could not believe that he would say this to me. That he would condone my sisters' behavior. Why, if this was an issue, could Marie not have this conversation with me when I asked? Since Dec. 26th, when I asked WHY IS THE ADOPTION POLARIZING FOR YOU? she cannot greet me or wish her goddaughter happy birthday, and has (laughably) unfollowed all of the Shenanigans on socials. But that's not mean?  

The problem:  I don't matter. Never have. Marie's perspective is gonna outrank mine.  Every time. Dad changed his opinion because she told him to. I had quite a few things to say to him. I was very upset. I will go back when I'm more calm, and I'll bring Coach with me. 

I just can't anymore. There's so much wrong here. I just can't. 

Sorry - maybe I should've split this in two posts. If you read the whole thing or skimmed it, thank you. 

Is it too late to submit this document from 1991?

I unearthed my journal from my year '91-'92 abroad a few months ago. Friends, it's un-put-down-able. So entertaining. I remember so much from that year, but I was surprised at how much I'd forgotten. 

The bin where my journal was stored was kept in the crawl space. The bin is in pretty bad shape, but I'm so grateful that the contents are mostly fine. It seems like there was a bit of damage - like something dripped in there at some point. 

In addition to a box with all of my childhood pairs of glasses and notebooks where I recorded my favorite baby names as a junior high kid, there were several gallon size bags of letters. I suspect that I have almost every letter that I received when I was in Ireland - and the other college years and some high school years. I didn't realize that I'd kept all of them. 

My dad wrote a letter to all of the kids away at college (all 5 of us attended college in South Bend). Whoever received the letter had to hand it off to the other kids. The year I studied in Ireland, my brother Pat was on the same program. Dad wrote letters to both of us. And I have so many of them (maybe all of them, but who knows). 

I've only read through a handful of them, but they are hilarious. In one of our first letters, Dad included a meal budget form. Presumably one for each of us. Uh, Pat's is not in the envelope - so maybe he filled it out and returned it, which was the expectation. Dad was an accountant.  

My meal budget plan is still in the envelope and not filled out. The columns include:  Cost of meal:  breakfast, lunch, dinner - with a list of 31 days.

The other funny letter was a few weeks after we arrived in Ireland. Dad says:

We understand Ernie doesn't go to class. We were at the Smiths' (neighbors) last Saturday and he said he got a letter in which Ernie says she doesn't go to class. So I asked Marie to send me copies of the letters she gets from Ernie, and she laughed and said no, because Ernie talks about not going to class. Ernie, what do you do with all your time? Go to the Roost (local pub)? Are the classes mostly lectures?  

*****

Do you keep letters? Did you keep a journal in your youth? Would you ever have kept a budget for meals in college and submitted it your parents?

Mini and Curly and I are in Wisconsin at our annual overnight.

Fashion (almost?) Friday - Do I need the F?

My friend also wore all white, twining.
The filled in spot on my dress
 is right under the boobs. I am so
 white in that area, I prob
 could've gone without fixing it.

From a while ago:  I brought Mini and Curly to Von Maur on the Tuesday before thegraduation party and we bought Curly an armful of cute dresses. She is the queen of workout clothes, or cute tops and jean shorts. Some of the dresses weren't even on sale. I cared little. Mini was there to say - maybe not for grad party, but that one is a college girl staple. Thank you baby Jesus for the Mini influence and for Curly to be excited about so many cute dresses, and for the $150 gift card a mom I sit for gave me as a year-end gift. That covered at least half of our haul. 

I bought myself a white lace sundress. It had a cut out in the middle. I'm not a cut out sorta gal, so while I didn't shred buckets of cheese in advance of the grad party - I fixed my dress with some white eyelet fabric I had laying around . . . as one does. 

Not black tie optional, but CUTE:  I bought this dress a few years ago. Still has the tags on it. I couldn't pass it up. I thought I could wear this to my niece's wedding end of Sept in KC. Mini and Curly, who I modeled it for, said NOPE. Not black tie optional. I didn't believe them, but Mini used google lens and asked AI and AI was like NO BECAUSE the print, the length, the fabric, etc. 

Me:  OK, I got the message. 

I bought this one.

Dress shopping for the fun girls' night:  Mini, Curly, and I went dress shopping Tuesday night. We all need dresses for this wedding. Mini suggested that we rent them - that's what her college friends did quite often. So, must be trending. I don't think I'm that cool.

I only checked out the sale rack. Two dresses were probably geared for mother of the bride or groom dresses. (pics at bottom of post). The tan one was 75% off, so not returnable. I opted not to buy it, but for only $99 - 'twas tempting. I anticipate needing a mom of the groom dress sometime in the next year or two. The4 navy one was half price at $300. It's a MacDougal, which I'd only just heard of for the first time at the pricey resale shop that the older girls and I went to recently. 

So, I bought the bluish one. I might need an intervention or a boob job to pull it off, but I like it. I'll look around a bit more before I commit. Maybe it'll get marked down more in the next few weeks in which case I'll take it back and rebuy it. 

Breathing not allowed, size 2

Yes, it's hard to be me sometimes, why do you ask? 

Speaking of high-end resale:  When we were at the high-end resale, I tried on this amazing dress. It was a size 2. I'm a size 6. It's a Veronica Beard and I did get it zipped, but it took an act of God. No joke, there was something wrong with the zipper. The woman went to wax it and we did eventually get it up, but if breathing is essential - and I tend to find that it is, then this size 2 was not for me. Damn rib cage.

Anyway, when Mini was trying to figure out the zipper - like when it was in its 'I don't wanna zip' phase whether someone had it on or not, 

Mini said, "It's not you, it's the zipper." 

And now I want that on a t-shirt. 

Reg's caddy tan line is a silly looking
 fashion statement of its own.

Mini used google lens to find this same dress on Poshmark in a size 6 (I do wonder if I could make a 4 work - anyone have experience with Veronica Beard - does she run big?). 

I bought it on Poshmark - got an email confirmation. I was so excited and wondered why it hadn't come in the mail yet. I went back and looked at my emails and the order was cancelled minutes after I placed it, because the seller no longer had it. Huh? I had my heart set on it, and I might end up buying the 6 at a higher price. 

    

*****

Have you ever had such interesting and well defined tan lines? Would you buy a mother of groom dress THIS early, as in - there's no ring yet. Have you been to a black tie optional wedding?

Monday Medley #2

ENVELOPE ADDRESSING FOR BEGINNERS:  Curly brought her thank you notes downstairs. She wrote in cute, neat handwriting in the center of the envelope:  

To:  Uncle Mike 

From:  Curly. 

Me:  What? Where are you gonna put the address? 

Curly:  I'm just writing it the way they wrote it on the envelope they gave me.

Me:  Yeah, well, they hand delivered it at your party. You're mailing these. 

How does a high school grad think To:  &  From:  is included in addressing an envelope ?

LET THERE BE LIGHT:   This is a basement light switch that replaces a finicky dimmer switch. It took an act of God, the patience of a saint, a lot of fiddling, and unnatural wrist movements to turn the light on or off. Once on, we wiggled the switch to eliminate the strobe-light tendency. 

I opted to include a chunk of this photo collage of funny pics that's hanging next to the switch, because CUTENESS. Can you spot Tank's reverse mohawk or Reg wearing a dress up and a football helmet? Or Mini showing her muscles?

After living here for 18 years and acquiring the light switch on/off skillset involved in not hanging out in a dungeon like basement, Coach replaced the switch. 

I lack words to express how life changing this is. 

AI TO THE RESCUE:  Reading work that was generated by AI at my writing group is irritating. We changed the requirements to deter people from submitting work written by AI.  

When I was working on Curly's video, I asked AI for tips to add transitions to a group of photos vs each individually. I've used this software for years. Didn't think it was possible, but alas AI knew how to do it. 

Last week, I asked AI about people/ places from my study abroad year in 1991-1992, as I'm writing about that timeframe. I asked where my Irish friend was, giving key info. AI told me what school she teaches at. I found her email on her school's website, sent an email, asking "Is this the same Niamh who studied at This College in 1992? And hung out with an American, who you called Rin?"

Minutes later, I got an email back:  YES, RIN. IT'S ME! 

Amazing. 

Isn't it crazy to think that the younger generation will most likely stay in touch better because of social media and phones? 

MANIC MONDAY MOANING:  Rae's EMDR therapist moved her office to a new location following her medical leave (and forgot to tell us. We dropped Rae off and came back to get her and she'd been sitting in the waiting room the whole time. Never seen.) *deep breaths* 

After that fiasco, I discovered that this therapist's new location was near Kay's therapist. A 25 expressway-driving minutes drive from us. I aligned their appointments:  10:15 and 10:30 on Mondays, allowing 8 min between the two offices to drive back and forth for drop off/pick up. 

But . . . Kay's therapy has been on different days due to conflicts, ie:  her therapist was on vacation for 2 of the Mondays, etc. 

Today both appointments were set to align. A 1st. Rae's therapist emailed me Sunday:  'something came up. I can't see Rae until 2:30 Monday.' Huh?

I can't kill time between 11:30 and 2:30 in that area. I have to get Kay back near home to go to the barn at 1:30. Summer is almost over, and my 'this is how this will work' has not happened ONCE.

Also, last week I called insurance and the man I spoke to believed he'd cracked the code. Insurance should be paying (duh). A week later -no invoices have been paid. In order for Rae to go to the 2:30 session we need to pay invoices over 30 days old. I prefer not to beg to be reimbursed. 

I want to drive my white van through the entry way of the insurance building, which leads me to . . . 

MARVELOUS MONDAY  NEWS . . .  

WHITE VAN REINCARNATED:  I don't think I shared the harrowing details of how I got GW to a mechanic that Lad knew of - remind me. 

Anyway, I told the mechanic: no rush - take your time. Weeks later - he texted Saturday: fixed the wiring. Some modules were missing ground. 

For the small price of $600, which beats buying a different used van. I'm going later today to bring my baby back. No joke, I'm getting teary-eyed typing this. 

MINI JOB UPDATE:  Almost forgot to include . . . Mini got another offer. I think she'll be accepting the 2nd offer. More to follow. I'm not cut out for business world talk, but I AM here for the work wardrobe shopping. First haul set to arrive tomorrow, compliments of the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale (she can afford it). 

*****

Have you used AI to get in touch with someone you've lost touch with? If you haven't, is there someone you wish you'd kept in touch with or would consider looking for? Anything you'd like to moan about on this Monday? What skill do you think high school should be teaching? Anything life-changing yet simple that you're excited about?

Wet & Wild July 4th: if only arc-building was trending, & BIG NEWS

A few of us attended Ed's gf's family July 4th party. It looked like rain later, so we arrived early to swim. GF's mom's house has a beautiful pool and walkout basement, but Coach opted to stay home. 

He dislikes:  the sun and being social. 

When the rain reached 'time to build an arc' level, my brother, Pat, called. Mike was at our folks' house. Their basement was flooding. Mike needed help. Pat was at his lake house. 

Me:  Coach is at 4:30 mass, but he'll be home soon. I'll send him with towels. 

I didn't realize Coach was at a farther away parish (where we like to attend because amazing priests). He wasn't near home /around the corner from my folks.

I'd had a few adult beverages, so Curly drove. We were only 12 min from home. 

What an adventure. Roads were closed. We couldn't get home. It took almost an
hour. Coach called - same boat (how pun-funny is that?). Once he was nearby, Coach parked the car and walked to our house. I directed Curly to cut through the nearby church parking lot after zig-zagging thru neighborhoods/backing up when a road was blocked. The gate leading to the church's back-entrance across the street from our house is closed during the week, but they'd just had mass so it would be open. Bingo.

*Our fam theory:  the gate used to be left open most of the time. While Lad lived with us, he cut through the parking lot to the main street ALL THE TIME. Now the church only opens the gate for weekend mass. Thanks, Lad. 

We grabbed beach towels and the white towels we have leftover from Lad's swim team/water polo days. I use those for my daycare diaper changing area, etc. 

Curly hopping on a towel
 in my dream home hideout. 

At our house, the sump couldn't keep up. Water seeped out of the sump closet onto the carpet. It wasn't standing water, thank God. Oddly, we later discovered two other strips of carpeted areas were saturated. Outside the bathroom door - the edge along the tiled floor. And at the edge of the tiled floor along the kitchen area. What gives? 

Back at my folks' house  - the unfinished storage room flooded and it flowed into the carpeted area. Their basement is high-end everything. Ugh. Good thing Mike was there, because the sump alarm was apparently ear piercing. After soaking up the water, Curly and I took wet towels to the garage and stomped on them to wring them out before putting them in the dryer. 

If ever I go missing, check my folks' empty garage. I'd live there in a heartbeat. No clutter. Clean as a whistle. 

Rae helping Nana light candles.

Then their power went out. Sheesh. Later Pat hired a company to manage the carpet replacement/clean up, etc. 

Coach:  I wish we had a dehumidifier (for our basement)

(2 minutes later) Me:  Oh, here's one on FB for $90. Looks new. It's 4 miles away. 

I msg'd the guy and gave Coach his address. 

(after he picked it up) Coach:  I got there and the thing looked like garbage. 

Me:  So you offered him less?

Coach:  No. But I told him if it didn't work, I'd be bringing it back. 

Any guesses on who the haggle guru of the family is? It's been humming along, so whatever. 

I hopped on FB the next day when my folk's power was still out, and asked if anyone had a generator that we could borrow for my elderly parents. I'd moved loads of their fridge food to my fridge. 

A woman in their neighborhood let us borrow her generator. Coach brought it over, and discovered:  Ann had bought them a generator. Any guesses on how unproductive it is to function with family members with mental health issues who refuse to communicate in the family group chat?

Since their basement already had fans and a dehumidifier, Dad asked Coach to plug in the TV and the fridge. The White Sox were playing. #priorities

If we'd been smart, we would've pulled our carpet back right away. That damn thirsty pad sucked up water, saturating more of the padding than necessary. 

This was a first:  We've lived in our house for 18 years. 3 of Mini's college friends arrived the next day to sleep in our basement. Well, they planned fun things - their goal wasn't simply basement sleeping. Our moved-furniture and pulled-back carpet made the space a little less presentable, but they didn't mind. 

No clue how long till Coach pieces together new carpet padding, since we're DIY'ers. And since I know you know, wait till you hear the tale about the tree replacement tantrum that happened before the grad party. (I've got to add that topic to my list of things to draft).

*****

BIG NEWS:  MINI GOT A JOB TUESDAY IN CHICAGO AT A BANK. (more later - b/c guess who still is still interviewing at another bank ?- 2nd interview later today)

Have you ever experienced build-an-arc rain? A flooded basement? The day before hosting overnight guests? Verbally accepted a job, and then switched gears? (I don't think she'll do that. She's unsure if she'll like either position. Terms like futures, trading, options, client support, credit review, etc. are being tossed around. I'm the least business-ie person to have majored in business, so no help here).

A Monday Medley

So much to share - no common thread to pull it all together, so I give you:  

A Monday Medley

Well, not exactly - I'll have my hands full of
 babies and toddlers. Oof, that reminds me
- I gotta share deets about next year
in the Shenanigan Daycare.

-  A Ride for Kay:  A weight has been lifted. Janet emailed me. A new student who's joining her school has a sib that will attend Rae's high school. Janet connected us with the parents yesterday via email. 

They're willing to collect Kay at Rae's h.s. (both girls will get a ride there from our house), and drive her the rest of the way - and drop her back off at Rae's h.s. after school, where we can pick up both girls. It's a perfect arrangement. 

We 're happy to compensate them  - more reasonable than $$$$ to a pay a chauffeur. Such a relief. 

- Memory Care:  My dad started a new cancer drug - needed monitoring to see if the med would cause kidney damage, so he stayed in the hospital a few nights. Great news - no issues. Regardless, he's 86 and his health isn't great. He wants to keep fighting. Most likely Mom will outlive Dad. Aside from Alzheimer's, she's in good health at 84. 

Pat let me know that he and Mike were touring a pricey, memory care facility for Mom. Just in case/to be prepared. My friend advised against that place for a loved one based on her mom's experience. I shared her text in our family group chat. My brothers toured it and reported:  'it was great.' 

Currently my folks live in their home. They have caregivers come in during the day and evening. 

I told my siblings in September that we'd be willing to have Mom live with us if the situation arose (no need to remind me how hard this could become - if we can't manage it, we wave the white flag. If Mom is functioning well enough and not  combative/ trying to run away, etc. then I'd hope to keep her out of a home). 

My concern:  once Dad passes, my voice won't be heard. My sisters have stopped speaking to me. Ann has the health care directive power. I'm the only sib with a first floor bedroom (currently used as a study) and bathroom with a walk in shower who is home all day. I could end my daycare. 

Other cultures care for their loved ones in their homes in their final years. I'm not saying it would be easy, but I also don't understand why it's so out of the realm of possibilities. 

Pat texted in the group chat, requesting that we not mention this option to Dad yet. Why?

My dad is lucid. I would like him to know that if we're in a position to keep Mom with us, would that impact his directives, etc. Reg suggested we just move into her house after Dad passes. That'd be interesting. I fear she'll lose ground once she's no longer in her home.  

 - Movie:  we watched 'A Few Good Men'. Kay was at a last minute rodeo road trip from Wed evening till Sat night, so she wasn't home. The movie was recorded off of You Tube TV, so it lacked bad words. What it lacked in bad words, it made up for in entertaining dubbed in words with whacky mouth movements. We are big fans of this movie. We've seen it at least a dozen times. It's always great. 

- The Non-Chef:  Mini has a 2nd interview this afternoon. It would be great if she landed this. Prayers and good thoughts welcome.

COMING UP:  Four Eyes, the Wet & Wild 4th (I intended to write about that today, but forgot - sorry for the unintentional cliffhanger), & Connecting with People from my past. 

*****

Do you enjoy A  Few Good Men? Or what movie could you watch dozens of times and still enjoy? 

Thoughts on whether or not to ask Dad his thoughts on Mom moving in with us vs. memory care after he passes, if we are up to it at that point in time? I feel like this conversation would not need to include 'Pat and Mike just toured a place.'