The ongoing cold/bronchitis/whatever has knocked me for a loop. But there have been changes, good ones mostly.
Friday morning I got up, still sick as can be and had a long conversation with Andy about his future. Whatever Laura had said to him after their last disastrous few days together had galvanized Andy into action. He told me he was determined to finish and get a job, leaving for a meeting with his adviser at George Mason. He got his financial aid in place, signed up for the needed classes and got his senior project approved plus applied for a good internship in Northern Virginia. I don't know exactly why Laura lecturing her brother should have such a profound effect on him unlike anything either his father or I have said but I'm so glad. He's too smart to be living in his room in mom and dad's house surfing the internet all the time.
He also gave up drinking and pot for the next month. Laura challenged him to make that change and to see if he can make it a permanent change. Good. At least he will not go around puking at his friends places that way.
Friday while he was gone I spent the day laying on the sofa crocheting a new sweater for Jim and repairing some of Jim's clothing while Sense and Sensibility and other Jane Austen novels put to film. Since I've had this upper respiratory thingie I cannot think straight. As insensible as I can be. Crocheting and napping was as challenging as I could do.
Yesterday wasn't much better. I got the dishes washed and NLQ updated and that was it after a morning spent in meetings with an attorney and some of the home owners and a specialist in HOA affairs. Yes, yes the HOA confloption over where the HOA money is continues unresolved. Out for the count, I laid in bed and watched Bob Ross and all the other painters that come on after him on PBS. Early bed.
While we'd been meeting I'd run into one of the old members of Possom Creek that had left the church before we did. I gave her kind of short shrift, said hi and turned back to the meeting. I'm glad I did even if I hold nothing against her and we always got along. Jim started having an in depth convo with her and I could clearly hear her bragging about how her husband is still one of the editors at the Congressional Record, one son does something for a Senator (didn't catch the title) and how the youngest child is now studying on full scholarship at Dartmouth or Harvard (some Ivy League school, just didn't catch the name).
Why was I so glad I didn't talk much to her? While she is one of the few really successful home schooling mothers I know, getting all three of her sons into Ivy League schools on scholarships after home schooling them, I just know that the mean little petty evil part of me would want to ask her about her rapist son, ask if he was still in prison the first moment she started to brag about the others. Feeling like crap sometime makes me less tolerant of what I know to be bullshit... I wonder if he's still in prison? Poor kid.
Today I got up still feeling like I had a foot on a banana peel and the other on a tombstone so I went back to bed and slept in quite a while. Got up and started to crank out a huge tray of biscuits to put together a large ham biscuit tray for the post funeral reception at the church, after our friend Don's funeral in the morning. After all, we are in the South and there cannot be a funeral without food anywhere south of the Mason-Dixon line. Southerners and food go together at any social event you can think of, from marryings to buryings.
Was so not looking forward to the visitation tonight because, let's face it, everything to do with funerals is sad, glum and mournful. Oh how I was disabused of that notion tonight! First of all, we get there and it's a mad house, we had to circle the parking lot several times to find a space to park the car. Waited in line nearly two hours before we made it anywhere near the room Don was laid out in. But when I got there, hoo boy, what a laugh, what a hoot!
It was open casket and as I got closer I could see that the mortician had arranged Don's face in a smile and Don wore his Nascar t-shirt in the casket. Surrounding Don were so many mementos of the things he had a deep love of, tiny Nascar cars, the Emmaus Walk rainbow on the back of the casket, many silly little things. It looked like Don was laying there, smiling, pleased as spiked punch, enjoying it all. Touching and made most of the mourners smile. This was one of those rare wakes that felt like a real celebration of life.
But the funniest thing about it was that I glimpsed my old boss from the year I worked at the insurance agency, Bitchy Galore and her sixth hubby Tommy. I'd just been amusing Andy earlier in the day with tales of the year I worked for her, her drinking in the office, the time she accused me of looking at hardcore porn on the front office computer and I showed her through the history that it had happened when Tommy was there, not I, all the times she was shouting about her gynecological issues while I was sitting in the back working on the network turning red while she yelled and the time she decided to fund raise for the local country club by trying to get the golfing ladies of the country club to post for a nude calender on the golf course. She was a character, but a character I could only put up with for that one year. I was still heavily involved with fundamentalism so every single day I worked with her I felt like I was dealing with a sinful non-believer and it was an abasement to be near her so I quit.
I have to say the time hasn't aged either of them very well but they are still married and that surprises me the most. They were quite the prickly pair that fought all the time in the office, making for a very tense atmosphere. With her track record of so many divorces and his reputation for being a jerk I never expected them to last more than a few years. You never can tell I guess.