My grandmother has come home from the hospital, at least for the time being. A nurse comes by from time to time to maintain her apparatus, and a trusted housekeeper with home care experience gives her her baths. She'd been nervous about coming home, but here she gets poked and prodded less (and generally not at, say, 6am). My uncle set up a pair of walkie-talkies so that she can page for assistance without having to shout downstairs. (Make up your own joke about creating a monster. j/k)
Some level of boredom and irritation had set in (and not just for me), but (for me) a number of conversations with key individuals have helped me to regain perspective. I guess everybody can be difficult sometimes, though for my part I don't mutter derisively when people are barefoot or are laying on the couch instead of sitting upright. Nothing's come to blows, but it's gotten heated once or twice. Increasingly, I grit my teeth, stick to the facts, and resist the urge to return the verbal blow.
Since my grandmother has been having problems, it has fallen to me to feed the hummingbirds. It is like painting the Golden Gate Bridge. In fact, it is probably worse - it seems like the more diligent I am about keeping the feeder full of boiled sugary water, the harder the birds hit it. But their hitting it harder probably makes me fill it more often, too. Perhaps they sense they've found a sucker and they're going all out.
Annoyingly, the wasps come by too, and they can jolt a hummingbird off its feed. One time a wasp came inside with me when I was refilling the feeder and I vacated the kitchen while it buzzed around in the window for half an hour or more. When I called her, Mom said to just let it go and it'd die eventually, and I suppose that's what happened. I also found an earwig inside the feeder once. Those things are dreadful, at least in appearance.
Tomorrow morning I'm going to follow someone to Antigonish where we'll find someone who can paint the car. The part that got hit was straightened out fairly well at the garage - not perfect, but neither was the rest of the car. Since I was just hoping to get another winter out of it, it's satisfactory. While it was down at the garage here in Sherbrooke, on my own dime I got the hood ornament reattached and the (busted up) front licence plate holder taken off. The net effect is that the car actually looks better than it did before the little impact a while ago. I wanted the fellow to look at my back bumper too, but he didn't get the car up on the hoist.
Part of me is like "Why can't I have nice things (that are still in good condition and aren't about to collapse into a pile of rust)?" But I haven't earned the right to have something like that. Well, I suppose there was the car I bought myself the summer after Japan.
My grandmother's brother came to visit the other day (his daughter drove) and we had a great time - he and my grandfather and my uncle told stories. I was so engrossed in them that I couldn't tear myself away from the kitchen table, which became a problem when someone requested that I grab a Coke. I should have just run down and gotten it over with, but you hope in vain for a lull, and time keeps ticking on and on, and the story gets better and better...
"I'll just go down and get it," someone else said.
"No, you don't know where it is! He has to go get it!"
Gee, it's a box of Coke in the fridge. Real aerospace engineering there.
"Coca! Cola! Coca! Cola!"
I zipped down and grabbed a can, but a normal one instead of a small one, which I would have gotten if I'd allowed myself enough time to think.
I saw the movie Amadeus last night. I wonder how much of it was accurate. Andy said he'd heard tell of it being shown to musical history classes and he didn't think that was entirely appropriate. Anyway, I'd give it a 9 out of 10.
Written Monday afternoon.
We didn't go to Antigonish today because we couldn't get a hold of the guy we were going to visit. I'd put a bit of gas in the car and (for free!) topped off the air in the tires. Well, doing that certainly didn't hurt anything. The plan now is that our neighbour will spraypaint the stricken area with some car paint he acquired today. Mom herself was talking in terms of doing that, though I fear she would have used artist's paint and a brush.
I've had my fill of nonfiction, so I've started reading A Game of Thrones. I've owned the first few volumes of A Song of Ice and Fire for about a decade but haven't read them. I was going to finish The Wheel of Time series first, but I ran out of steam somewhere in A Crown of Swords and so much time has passed that I'd have to re-read from the beginning. I guess I'll do that if I get thrown in jail or something.