There were few good moments yesterday as it would rain, then stop, then rain more, then stop, then wind, more rain, a threat of tornadoes, then nothing. My body didn’t have time to adjust too much so it decided to shut down. Our shipment of cat litter arrived before the kids got home so I had to be the one to carry it in. My body didn’t like that. Nausea hit so hard that I had to take a shower and change clothes. Most of the rest of the day was spent in bed or in the bathroom. Fortunately, the kids are good at taking care of themselves, but I actually had a decent dinner planned and couldn’t stand up long enough to fix it.
Tipper had a problem at school yesterday when someone in one of her classes wrote “Fuck [her name]” on one of the tables. Since no one admitted witnessing the act, no one was admonished or punished. Tipper is more than ready to graduate and never see those particular classmates again. Fortunately, she’ll be in a more supportive atmosphere next school year.
Ryn (aka Big Gabe) called yesterday and gave me an update on all the gossip in that part of the family. The biggest impact is that they’ve blocked their grandparents for refusing to recognize them as non-binary. Their grandfather’s 85th birthday is next week and Ryn’s refusing to go, which I totally agree with. The grandparents have been nothing but manipulative their entire life and if they can’t be supportive then no, Ryn has no obligation to associate with them.
The other big news is that I’m attempting to get back into photography. All the why and wherefore are in yesterday’s post. I’m looking for volunteers so I can update my portfolio appropriately. Contact me here or on Facebook. How I’m going to juggle this along with the chemo, I don’t know. To a large degree, it doesn’t matter. Congress isn’t likely to prevent the severe cut in Social Security scheduled for ’33, so I need to take preventative action of my own now, even if it causes further health issues.
Speaking of the dicks in Congress, House Speaker Johnson doesn’t seem to understand how the separation of powers works. Yesterday, he “demanded” that all trials against the former president must stop on grounds that they amount to election interference. Yeah, that’s really the tact they’re taking. Nimwits. That’s not the way the system works. Congress doesn’t get to interfere in ongoing trials. These idiots are power-hungry and severely delusional. Please, vote and replace them all.
The fog this morning is severe. More rain is forecasted for this evening so I’ll need to complete whatever I’m going to do early today. Not that I had much planned, mind you. Feel free to distract me with coffee.
The House Next Door Caught Fire
A discouraging way for 2021 to end
I was sound asleep this afternoon, trying to get in a good, long nap so there might be some hope of actually staying up until midnight. I was mildly aware of the dogs being restless, the sound of diesel-fueled trucks in the neighborhood, but that’s not uncommon around here so I ignored it. Then, there was a knock at the back door. That is extremely uncommon. Our yard stays locked down because of the dogs. To knock on our door means jumping the fence.
“Get out! The house is on fire!” the boy yelled.
I jumped up and ran to the door.
“Get everyone out!” he said. “The house next door is on fire!”
I quickly turned around and yelled at the kids. “Out the door! Now! The house is on fire!” I grabbed the dogs and tossed them in the van. We quickly exited and pulled across the street. At that point, I wasn’t sure but what it might be our house that was on fire. It was a risk I couldn’t take.
Only once I was sure that our house was reasonably safe did I run back in and grab things like the kids’ shoes. I stood on the corner with all our neighbors watching the flames fully engulf the house, one that was largely a carbon copy of ours. At least three, possibly four fire units from both Indianapolis Fire Department and the Speedway Fire Department had responded. The streets were full of fire trucks and hoses and what seemed like 50 firefighters.
For the first time ever, my camera had not been among the things I thought to grab. I thought about it, but it didn’t seem as important this time. I caught a couple of pictures with my phone, and waited, trying to keep the dogs calm and answer the kids’ questions.
Only after the fire was mostly out and the kids and dogs safely back inside did I grab the camera and take a few pictures. Somehow, this seems a fitting ending to my year in so many ways.
As I’m standing there with my camera, my phone buzzed. Betty White had died.
Fuck this. If this is how 2022 is going to come in, we’d best brace ourselves for the toughest year yet.
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