Digging, and Howie Has Patience

Friday, and still no word from Back East about my mother and my sister.

"Should I call people back there and ask them what the hell is going on?" I asked my husband. He was kind, and reminded me that everyone who has anything to do with the situation already has my phone number, and knows to call me if anything has happened.

And that is true. I just want CNN-type hourly updates from all of them, so that I can tell them if they're doing it right or not.

Mom herself is not answering the phone in the evenings. I always called her at the same time, so she knows if the phone is ringing, it's me. No answer. Or maybe she just turned off the ringer one more time and blissfully forgot that there was such a thing as a phone.

She did tell a mutual friend (last Sunday) that she was not going to answer her phone any more because she was sick of caseworkers coming around disrupting her routine.

Wow, I think that must have been the inspiration for the cartoon feature, "The Emperor's New Groove."

In the meantime, to try to stop worrying, I went out to the back yard and finally, after what, two years? -- got around to planting our little cherry tree that John and Alex gifted us for our 30th wedding anniversary.
Digging was good, though I got a close up view of the massive weeds on the back bank, and filled up half a 55 gallon recycle can with only about four feet of the bank.

And I finally got Howie and Sebastian to pose together. Seb, in the foreground, looks bigger than Howie -- and almost is.

His head is bigger, but How still has more bulk per inch. But not for long, I think.

Sebastian has that intense, direct stare that wants to know what is happening ... and Howie is just asking, "How much longer do I have to lie here beside this pile of crap?"