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…that went through the Atlanta area a week or so ago?

Have I mentioned that a whole bunch of my family lives out there and my Mum, Dad, and Brother are currently visiting said family? Well, they do and are.

So…about that storm front. Apparently food was being prepared at my Aunt and Uncle’s place when the word came down the wire that they should probably head for the basement.

Yes, the basement. It was that kind of storm. I asked, but it seems that not one of my usually quite witty family was heard to utter the phrase “Auntie Em, it’s a twister.” In point of fact there were a couple of funnel clouds spotted, but nothing touched down in that area. No, they just had golf ball-sized hail, wind, rain, and lightening.

Imagine if you will, that my parents, brother, cousins, 2nd cousins, and 93-year-old Nana (my aunt and uncle who actually live in this house were away at this point) are crowded into this basement when lightening strikes the transformer and the lights go out. Luckily, they had one flashlight! Unluckily…well… Okay, luckily there were two methods of egress from this basement. One door they came through and down the stairs and a ladder leading to a er…less sophisticated opening. With me so far?

Remember the unluckily? Yeah. The easy door locks automatically when it closes, it would seem. Did anyone have the key? Nope. They did have two smart and determined young men (the aforementioned second cousins) with screwdrivers and a flashlight in their favor. Also, they had my cousin who just up and climbed the darn ladder and dashed through the remaining rain to go through the house and let everyone out. So, all was well. A couple of the other family houses had electricity, so the meal was moved down the road a piece. Everyone was fine. The transformer was replaced. No worries. The roads in the area were a bit the worse for wear, though.

Here are a few pictures that my Dad took of the clean up efforts and sent to me.

I think that used to be the top of a tree.

A spot of tidy.

I hope that the roof is okay.

That doesn’t look good.

Atlanta, family

We just walked in after going out to find food, as my blood sugar randomly crashed in an unusual way earlier. (long story)

I was in the kitchen putting the leftovers away when Koshvader calls from the other room:

“Are you done with the stuff on the thing?”

I burst out laughing. I had no idea that my husband spoke femme. Mind you, I suppose he’d have too, since he was always that one guy in the girl group in school. (I was the one girl in the guy group, just so we’re all on the same page.) He told me, as I snickered, that it was only fair as I should be used to that sort of thing. I do it all the time to him. The scary part here, as he so rightly pointed out, is that I did know what he was talking about.

Yes, I was done with the dishes on the box. So, I put them away.

I ran across this over at Emma’s blog, and boy does it bring back memories. I am specifically posting this for my Sister, as we used to try to sing along. The most amusing part for me is that since I saw this last…I got a degree in French, so I can kind of make out what the Diva Orange is saying.

My Mother-in-Law is coming to stay with up for a couple of weeks, starting on the 16th. If my updates aren’t as amusing as usual until then, imagine me attempting to clean my pig sty, and you’ll know why.

Ack! I need to buy a Night Stand! (Or…maybe I can make do with a stack of boxes for a couple of weeks… It’s an option.)

In my family, and among my close friends, we have come up with many words and phrases that can only be understood by those in the know. So…I’m putting you wise.

Word/Phrase: Pink Pants

Origin: Once upon a time, when my sister was young, she went shopping with my mother. While they were out, she set her eyes on something she decided that she had to have. It was a pair of pink pants. Sadly, no matter how much she begged, Mum wouldn’t buy her those pants. (She has never heard the end of this.)

Meaning: Something you wanted but never got to have, as you were prevented for some reason.

Usage: I always wanted to spend a semester abroad in college, but it’s totally pink pants. We couldn’t afford it.
or

Argh! I always wanted to go to Space Camp. Pink Pants! Pink Pants!

Consider yourselved informed.
(Oh, and the pink pants in question would have been smaller than those shown. These came from Interpunk. I just liked the picture.)

words, phrases, Pink Pants

I figure that it’s only fair. I posted something yesterday that reminds me of my Mum, so today I’m posting something for my Dad. This poem was something that he shared with me when I was very young, and I even have the book it’s in somewhere. Also, this should explain my random references to the “airy mountain” whenever I go up to see my Mother-in-Law. I love this poem.

William Allingham (1824–1889)

The Fairies

UP the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren’t go a-hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl’s feather!

Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
Of the black mountain lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs,
All night awake.

High on the hill-top
The old King sits;
He is now so old and gray
He ’s nigh lost his wits.
With a bridge of white mist
Columbkill he crosses,
On his stately journeys
From Slieveleague to Rosses;
Or going up with music
On cold starry nights
To sup with the Queen
Of the gay Northern Lights.

They stole little Bridget
For seven years long;
When she came down again
Her friends were all gone.
They took her lightly back,
Between the night and morrow,
They thought that she was fast asleep,
But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since
Deep within the lake,
On a bed of flag-leaves,
Watching till she wake.

By the craggy hill-side,
Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn-trees
For pleasure here and there.
If any man so daring
As dig them up in spite,
He shall find their sharpest thorns
In his bed at night.

Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren’t go a-hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl’s feather!

I’m sitting at the downstairs desk working on my poor beheaded laptop. The last time I checked I should be receiving my new one right before Thanksgiving. I’m not holding my breath, but that would be really nice. Good timing and all of that.

It is now the 14th of November. Happy Birthday Lindsay!

Yesterday was long. Not as long as it could have been if we had tried to stop by my parents’ place, too, but quite long enough on its own. My poor KoshVader had to deal with his father’s ashes on the morning of his birthday. What a way to start a day.

It did get better, though. We came down off of the mountain, and went in search of an In N Out burger. I had developed a yen for one of their burgers, you see. We missed one when we turned on to the freeway, but we eventually turned off at a likely looking strip mall. Only to find, not an In N Out…but a Sonic instead. You must understand that we have been on a quest to eat at a Sonic for quite some time. We never seem to live near one, and previous attempts to find one during trips have met with failure. We have been on this quest for quite some time now, and today we reached our holy grail…as it were. Apparently looking for a specific restaurant is the same as looking for something in your house. The best way to find something is to look for something else. We quite enjoyed our lunch, by the way.

We arrived home and managed to contact KoshVader’s sister and her husband about The Birthday Dinner. Her birthday is today, as I mentioned above. We decided on the Clay Oven for dinner, and it was fabulous as always. It’s a good thing that the folks there know us. We were all a bit spacey, but our usual fabulous waiter kept an eye one us and asked us if we wanted certain things that we always order…but forgot about this time. All in all a good evening.

Tomorrow we plan to drive up to my parents’ place, and, if all goes well, stop in Vacaville to say hi to folks. You are officially warned.

And now, I’m off to bed…after I get my pillows out of the car. Good thing KoshVader is still dressed. Night.

Before I even begin, I want to warn you all that this post will be excessively depressing. Run away while you can.

No, really.

I took my Spock to the vet this morning at 8:30am. I carried her down the stairs and out to the car in her comfy donut thingy. She sat quietly during the trip across town, just watching through the windshield and occasionally glancing at me. At the Vet’s I filled out the paperwork with one hand while holding her with the other arm. When we went in to the room, the doctor very gently checked her out and confirmed my fears. Kidney failure. I wasn’t really surprised. She’d been drinking so much water and she had a very distinctive smell. I had just hoped that I was wrong somehow. The vet said that even if I had come in a month ago, the results would have been the same. He offered to run tests if I wanted, or give her fluids as she was dehydrated in spite of all the water. But there was no point. I could let her linger in pain for another week or so, or do the humane thing and let my baby go. That’s not really a choice. So I stayed with her until she was gone…and then I had to go to work.

I’m having her cremated and then returned to me, so that I can scatter her in a couple of weeks in the same area as we are going to scatter the ashes of my Father-in-law this weekend. I figure she’d like to have someone to annoy, and that way they won’t be lonely.

I hate these last two weeks. Everything from the terrible, unexpected phone call at 4:20am on Monday October 29, to sleeping on the floor up at the house in the mountains while we made all of the arrangements (okay…I got some knitting done, but still), to this, my laptop monitor dying, and the meeting I have tomorrow that I have to be non-specific about right now. Don’t worry, you’ll be hearing about the meeting as soon as I am allowed to say. And we have to go back up the mountain this weekend, picking up my father-in-law’s ashes on the way.

I need a gorram vacation. Oh. I have next week off. That’s good timing. I wish I had the money to go somewhere. Grr. I’m thinking of going anyway. So there.

Now, I need either a lot of chocolate or a lot of alcohol…or both. Too bad I don’t have time. *sigh* Oh, and the title of the post comes from last night’s shopping trip. That’s what we went to the store for. It was such a weird combination of things that I had to use it.

Spock 1991-2007

We all managed to get some sleep last night. Sometimes it helps to be exhausted. Who knew?

Today was the day for phone calls. Folks rang us, and after one attempt to call for some information, my Mother in Law turned the phone over to me. We now have it set up to go deal with the paperwork over at the funeral home tomorrow.

Later in the afternoon, one of Mom’s friends came over to stay with her so KoshVader and I could run some errands in town. It turns out that the Post Office parking lot over in Big Oak Flat has just enough cell phone reception to make some phone calls and check your voicemail. When we got back to the house, we got to play with a cute little Terrier dog. I’ve forgotten her name. It’s something like Twinkle or Twitter. Either way, she’s the cutest little thing. Quite the licky pup. She certainly lightened the mood around here.

Once they left, the rest of us decided that we couldn’t deal with being in the house any longer, so we went out for dinner. We drove out to Sonora, but we ended up going back to Jamestown and eating at The Willow steakhouse. On the way to the steakhouse, we actually passed the Funeral Home that we have to go to tomorrow. Good thing, as we had been trying to picture where it was. Now we don’t have to stress about that part. The food was really good and the atmosphere fabulous at the restaurant. The building was from 1862, as I recall. Anyway, just down the street was a house that had gone all out for Halloween.

Don’t worry, Linds. We got pics for you. KoshVader took them, so they are much less likely to be blurry.

At this point, we’re home again. The television has gone back to its sports-programs-as-background-noise job. I’ve hijacked the phone line to try and catch up on a few things. It’s hard to wait until the night to go online, but we need the phone line free during the day.

Tomorrow, we go back to Sonora to finalize the cremation plans and fill out paperwork. At some point we need to start working our way through the other paperwork after we get the death certificate. For one thing, my Mother in Law needs to write a will (as does my husband. I already have one. Come to think of it, I need to get my fella Life Insurance, too. His father didn’t have any.) We all need to sit down and make notes on what we want in the way of final plans. This whole situation has reminded us that death can be sudden and unexpected. It’s just better to be prepared. The Boy Scouts have that part right.

Thank you to all of you who have commented and e-mailed. I’ll try to keep you updated as connectivity permits.

I wrote this up a bit earlier, but I finally have a chance to post from the flaky dial up connection.

I am sitting in my Husband’s childhood home listening to a thunderstorm rage outside. I’m twenty miles from Yosemite National Park. There is no cell phone connectivity where I am, and the only Internet connection is very slow dial-up (that drops out a lot) or an old WebTV. So, I’m knitting while I sit with my Husband and Mother-in-Law as we sort of watch the Packers/Broncos game and count the seconds between the lightning and the thunderclaps.

We’re all a bit numb. The thing that really strikes me is the silence here. My Father-in-Law was hard of hearing, you see, and he always had the TV on. The house is small and the only way to escape the noise was to go outside. And now there is no loud conversation, no random old movie on the television. Just the occasional quiet comment, the game at a normal level, and the weather outside.

I’ve finished the longest pink scarf in the west, and started another. KoshVader has fixed his Mum’s laptop and a did a little work outside. Oh, and we’ve been to the grocery store in the nearest town. The Sheriff’s Deputy left a really handy pamphlet here when he left at 7 this morning. (We arrived at 9. It takes three hours to get up here.) We will have to review the pamphlet in the morning. (I already read it…and found a typo. Apparently, The Editor does not sleep.)

At this point I’m not sure how long we’ll be here, or quite what will happen. Hopefully we can all get some sleep tonight and be more functional tomorrow. Either way, It’s a good thing that I brought my bag and that extra skein of yarn.