A Rose for My Sister

One of the finest pinks I've been able to photograph with my digital camera, and this one is for my sister.

She hasn't died, although no one is offering a lot of hope for her. "She's a little better," they told me today. She's trying to cough the gunk out of her lungs from the pneumonia she developed, which is an improvement, I guess.

The hospital is ready to release her to a nursing home now, and the one they've located seems to be decent.

I wish she could go someplace nice, where the air conditioning keeps things cool and people have gentle voices, and might even listen when she feels the need to talk. She really is entertaining when she wants to talk -- the fabrications she comes up with are incredible. And even her snippets of muttering make you wonder what she sees in her mind. She was talking about it being over 200 years since (she?) was in the Holy Land the last day I was there with her. She won't be drawn into conversation often, though. You'd have to be content with what Jan wants to be heard.

If only there was a way for me to be back there during visiting hours, and then home again to be with my husband and daughter and son-in-law and granddaughter.

So it was a day of good news, for a change. Not only of Jan, but also I got a call that my laptop can -- CAN! -- be fixed, for a pricey but Not-The-Price-Of-A-New-One cost. "Do it!" I nearly shouted. And then did mental backward handsprings around the room. (They're safer than trying the stunt in real life)

Can't wait for the beast to be back in my hands. I've set up the new studio/bedroom with a queen-sized mattress and a heap of pillows to lean against, and it just itches for a woman with a laptop to lounge back and write stuff.