|The bride to be!|
|A unique tree I spotted during today's walk|
|Someone that was in our kitchen today on crutches|
|Found this on my camera tonight... wonder if Lisi took a self-portrait?|
Last weekend there was a shower for a special lady. Not just any special lady. This one is going to be married in November (like who in their right mind would choose November for a wedding? Oh wait a minute, that was us too). She's marrying a family member, so now we'll be related. Sorta. And she's nice. And young. And pretty. And smart. And... well I can't say much else because I don't know her all that well. But I will in time. And I'm glad she's going to live nearby. The shower was fancy. And so it was fun to be fussed over. Enjoying delicate fancies on pretty plates. Sharing it all with a room full of ladies I love. Nice I say!
Then on Saturday, the Chairman reminded me several times of it being "Sweetest Day". I'm not sure if he was being terribly romantic or trying to remind me to be sweet. Nonetheless sometime late-morning he asked if I wanted to go for a long walk with him. Well I had a lot of things I thought I should be doing. And the kids were there. But. They were busy enjoying each other's company. And 17 years ago during our dating years if he would have asked me to go for a walk I would have jumped at the chance. And so I did. It was wonderful. Visiting with the man I chose long ago and would again in a heartbeat. Watching the first 50% of the leaves dropping like... well, leaves. We were gone about an hour. When we returned there was a note on the door. Dear son #1 was going to be at "Derek's". But walking into the house I paused. Blood. Drop. Drop. Drop. Leading into the bathroom. On the counter was several bandage wrappers. I look into the waste basket. A paper towel with a lot of blood on it. Ick. Who was hurt???? I call up to the girls. No one hurt up there. So it must have been dear son. The note told me that he was fine. But yowsers. Only when he came home did he share the story of whittling on wood and taking off some of his own precious resources besides. Ick. I say.
Speaking of him... he fights a horrific mold allergy. And with it comes asthma. He's been on medication for over a year now and it helps. And I know you're not to put a price on your children's well-being. But the medicine alone is over $200/month. Ugh. So today was his re-check again. And so we went in looking polite and slightly poor and told the lovely Dr. that we thought the medicines were quite expensive. She came back before we left with approximately $900 in 'samples'. I nearly hugged her. It pays to ask if anything is available.
Cute story and then I better call it a post. In the car last week out of the blue Mira asks me, 'mom, is uncle A. adopted?' Um no. 'But isn't he adopted from Mexico?'. No. He was born into his family like Grandma was. He just 'works' in Mexico. 'But he looks just like a Mexican person!'. I told her that is where his heart is and maybe after living there all those years, he's becoming just like them. I think there's a lesson there.