Just a quick run down on what’s been happening the past few weeks…
I tried to take a vacation. Had scheduled a 5 day weekend to join some dear friends at the beach. But, because I have on client at the shore, and another one just an hour north of there, I ended up taking a total of 2 hours vacation. The rest was spent shopping for fabric, lighting, and headboards, and a trip to a clients property to take stock before I start designing them a new house. I hasten to add that I did make a day to go to the waterpark…which was a blast, and to do some personal shopping, so at least some fun was had.
But this weekend, I am trying again. Darling and I are headed to Savannah for a little weekend getaway. I don’t, to my knowledge, have any clients in the area, so it should be a real vacation.
Meanwhile, back at Mamas. When we last tuned in, Mama’s mobile mansion had once again been burgled, and she was in the loony bin. Fresh out, she went to stay with my grandmother for a day or two. Now, Granny is in her late 80s, and has luckily been very healthy and independant til now. Back in the fall, she had some sort of mini stroke which left her short term memory damaged. We’ve all known the time was fast coming that Granny wouldn’t be able to live alone anymore. We’ve had discussions whether Granny might move in with one of my aunts or uncles, whether we might hire help to come in and assist, or what other arrangements might work. But Mama, who you’ll recall can’t make it to the post office without a nap, a nerve pill, and a call to 911, was determined that SHE would be Grannys caretaker. (That she was desperate for a place to live in the wake of the latest Kenny breakup and trailer breakin likely has more to do with her sudden golden heart.)
A few days into Mama’s discharge from the looney bin, she was staying with Granny and, for reasons still unclear to most everyone, Granny ended up at the hospital, and later, a two week stint at a rehabilitation hospital, where the docs did some physical therapy to help her gain some strength. Mama still insisted she would take care of Granny. Somewhere during those two weeks, an awful storm hit the state, wiping out power for days. Mama called to check in from Kenny’s–proving for the umpteenth time that their breakups never last more than a day or two. With no more need of a place to stay, Mama wondered aloud if she were up to the task of helping Granny. And wouldn’t you know it, one day into the “job” Mama took a tumble down Granny’s sidewalk and is, shock of shocks, laid up and recovering.
Mr. Taxpayer is paying for Mama to start a physical therapy routine. (Or, as is apparent from her description of the routine, footing the bill for white trash spa days.) “First thing they gonna do is get me in the hot tub! I caint wait!” It’s enough to make me yearn for the sort of health care rationing the easily startled get their panties in a knot about–surely Mama would have been written off as a total loss years ago. The number of thousands of dollars the gubment pumps into her health care alone would settle the debts of most emerging societies.