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So Thursday I took Emma to various appointments -- one of them the steroid shot that's supposed to maybe make her stop hurting -- and went to the City to pick up Frank. I've decided that I'd rather drive to the City on Sunday and Thursday to take him and pick him up than to have him take the train (and bus). This is not because he's so tender he can't take the public transportation but because I selfishly want to see my father and stepmother twice a week. Thursday was a shock. My father couldn't eat or speak and could hardly move. Rosemary and Frank got him to the table, but to get a bit of stew down him I spoonfed him. Moher was devastated to see him like that and she not able to do much herself (Ishe's recovering very well from the satroke, though).
Today I took Frank back up to the City, but I went the long way round, so that Frank could go play some role playing game or another with his friend Keith at Games of Berkeley, and then the nice fellow and I ate noodles and shopped at Ikea, and most importantly, stopped over to play with my grandniece Julianna. So it was evening when we arrived in the City and I was worried, of course, but:
Luis was not sitting up or walking around, but he was comfy, lounging on the couch, with color in his face and very pleased with his state. He was talking, sounding like my father. He'd gone to the emergency room the day before where they had prescribed Gatorade and jello (dang, why didn't I think of that?) and pointed out that no, he wasn't supposed to be getting two opiates after all, the one was supposed to replace the other. My brother, always the gourmet cook, had made my father a Bavarian (which is sort of a jello custard thing). And Luis had eaten some actual food as well.
While we were shopping around town, I got my father a random Gypsy music CD -- just something I knew he wouldn't have -- and Ted got a Hawaiian steel record, and I got myself a copy of Sean Stewart's Perfect Circle which I've been searching for since before it was published as I heard him read a bit of it at the San Jose World Con and it had been a revelation, pure and simple. And we got Julianna a weird little stuffed animal, dog knows what it's supposed to be (the sign said "Kanin/rabbit" but that doesn't make sense. It's clearly neither a dog nor a rabbit). Julianna's parents, Lisa(Alyesia) and Jon, had made a nest of the stuffed snake we brought a few months ago -- "safety snake" -- so she can practice sitting up and have something soft to fall on, a strategy we had told them about using with Frank and Emma.
We've been drying a few mushrooms almost every day, so that now we have a nice little stash of chanterelles and another one of wine-colored agarics and another of craterellus. And the nice fellow keeps adding to his store of candy caps. He wants to make candy cap cookies or ice cream. I think when you go with the sweetness of the candy caps like that they become cloying. I've wanted to put them into tomato sauce, but Zak is right: he says they should be used to make squash ravioli (or, add I, squash soup).
(note to Emma: yes, I got your recommendation letter from Beth, in which she does invoke the name of the Longshoreman's Union, which means that yes, you have to write the essay, but of course I will help you. I had to be suitably impressed by Maya's 4th grade history project which is a complicated diorama showing the founderr of the first waitresses' union in San Francisco in her Labor Day parade float). And it's official: we'll be taking up a collection to send Rosemary to Calistoga for a mud bath.
I'm almost ready to write again.
Today I took Frank back up to the City, but I went the long way round, so that Frank could go play some role playing game or another with his friend Keith at Games of Berkeley, and then the nice fellow and I ate noodles and shopped at Ikea, and most importantly, stopped over to play with my grandniece Julianna. So it was evening when we arrived in the City and I was worried, of course, but:
Luis was not sitting up or walking around, but he was comfy, lounging on the couch, with color in his face and very pleased with his state. He was talking, sounding like my father. He'd gone to the emergency room the day before where they had prescribed Gatorade and jello (dang, why didn't I think of that?) and pointed out that no, he wasn't supposed to be getting two opiates after all, the one was supposed to replace the other. My brother, always the gourmet cook, had made my father a Bavarian (which is sort of a jello custard thing). And Luis had eaten some actual food as well.
While we were shopping around town, I got my father a random Gypsy music CD -- just something I knew he wouldn't have -- and Ted got a Hawaiian steel record, and I got myself a copy of Sean Stewart's Perfect Circle which I've been searching for since before it was published as I heard him read a bit of it at the San Jose World Con and it had been a revelation, pure and simple. And we got Julianna a weird little stuffed animal, dog knows what it's supposed to be (the sign said "Kanin/rabbit" but that doesn't make sense. It's clearly neither a dog nor a rabbit). Julianna's parents, Lisa(Alyesia) and Jon, had made a nest of the stuffed snake we brought a few months ago -- "safety snake" -- so she can practice sitting up and have something soft to fall on, a strategy we had told them about using with Frank and Emma.
We've been drying a few mushrooms almost every day, so that now we have a nice little stash of chanterelles and another one of wine-colored agarics and another of craterellus. And the nice fellow keeps adding to his store of candy caps. He wants to make candy cap cookies or ice cream. I think when you go with the sweetness of the candy caps like that they become cloying. I've wanted to put them into tomato sauce, but Zak is right: he says they should be used to make squash ravioli (or, add I, squash soup).
(note to Emma: yes, I got your recommendation letter from Beth, in which she does invoke the name of the Longshoreman's Union, which means that yes, you have to write the essay, but of course I will help you. I had to be suitably impressed by Maya's 4th grade history project which is a complicated diorama showing the founderr of the first waitresses' union in San Francisco in her Labor Day parade float). And it's official: we'll be taking up a collection to send Rosemary to Calistoga for a mud bath.
I'm almost ready to write again.
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I'm glad Perfect Circle is more recent than Galveston and the books of that ilk, because I didn't like Galveston and it's nice to think that the direction he's going is towards more books I like.
It says in the back of the book that he lives in Davis -- about a hundred miles from here, in the Valley. I have no idea how that could be made to be useful to me, but it's nice to think that such a congenial writer is writing away in the land of walnut trees and magpies, not so far away.
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However, the toy animal didn't look like a rabbit either.