My cousin, one of the twins, picked me up yesterday to visit with Grammie, and it was a treat and a half.

Grammie’s eyes lit up like Christmas when she saw me, and there were a few tears of happiness all around.

She is not falling anymore since her meds have been adjusted. She had had a stroke, and the medicos had blasted her with blood pressure meds so much that her BP was dangerously low. As a result, she had many falls because she was so dizzy when she stood up.

The geniuses only figured this out recently, and now she has been getting out of bed and walking with a walker. Still a little shaky from so much bed rest, and being tied to a geriatric chair.

She’s still full of spirit though, and although she hates the hospital (can’t blame her) she likes to shock the nurses by saying she broke her dink. (she broke her pelvis in a fall)

I think she will be able to go back very soon to the lovely place she was before she was admitted to hospital. The people who run it are wonderful, and they all love her. That makes them A-OK in my books.

I have had very little internet access since I wrote this, and I came home from being kidnapped into a camping adventure just now.

I booted up my home computer and it had a hard disk boot failure message. Oh, the woedness!

Will keep y’all updated as soon as I’m able, but for now, I have sound files from the readings I did last weekend to upload to the server.

I got some pics of Skinny Bitch and Will-Yummy, but will not be able to upload them any time before Friday. Wait for the post. We all had fun!

I know that some of you may be considering a trip to San Francisco for the BlogHer conference this summer, and some others of you may have other travel plans.

I have a $100 voucher for American Airlines up for grabs. It’s valid until August 03, 2008. Sound okay?

Just link to this giveaway for your chance to win. Tell your blog buddies.

It’s a decent prize for the travel minded.

Winner announced on Saturday next

To those who have been wondering: Yes, I’m feeling poorly right now, but with any luck, I’ll live. I just don’t feel pretty and witty right now.

HOORAY! The Purple Plates site is now working in Firefox and IE7. The IE6 code will have to wait until tomorrow.

Call me a Grammie’s girl, but I am crazy about my Grammie. She was the person I hurried toward when my own mother died, and she has always been a constant source of love and comfort to me.

She has been in hospital for over a week now, and last Monday, she broke her pelvis. Apparently, the pain meds have made her loopy, and she thought she could walk.

She wasn’t properly restrained, and she got out of bed, only to fall once more. They have taken her to a larger centre for a CAT scan.

She hates that she doesn’t remember things the way she used to, and I can honour that. I wish I was ready to let her go, but I long to be able to see her just one more time. I was hoping it was when I was scheduled to work in that area, but it sure isn’t looking good now, and I really can’t afford the trip right now.

Pneumonia is a real concern for elderly immoblilized patients. Please reach into your hearts and send a prayer of love to Grammie along with me.

Today’s puzzle is an image of Grammie that I call Tricky Ole Bird.

I love you, Grammie. I hope you are in shape to field your mother’s day calls tomorrow.

And Mom? I’m sending my love to you, and know that you feel it.

Create your own puzzles at PuzzleBee.com!

My Grammie is in hospital. She was admitted because she kept falling down. She broke her pelvis while in hospital. That kind of forced immobility is usually a death sentence of pneumonia for the elderly.

Today I am antsy, and just have an oppressive feeling of dread. The weather is matching my mood.

I’m afraid to call her. She was so disoriented the last time I did, and I’m not sure she knew who I was. But I’m afraid someone else will be answering.

I don’t want to know.

I’m going to cry now.

Update: I did call and there was no answer. I called my BFF from highschool and asked her to drop by after work and call me. The dread feeling lifted around 4 pm, and I got a call around 8 pm, saying that Grammie was discombobulated, but alive and kicking, and making funnies. I still don’t know what gave me that awful feeling of dread.

I always make it a point to visit my Grammie on her birthday every August 11th, even though it is a long bus ride away.

Every year, I ask her to hang on long enough til I get there, just so I can see her one more time. She already has her coffin special made. She’s perfectly willing to use it. Look at her, all grinning in her coffin. She’s a pissah!

I always liked to just show up in her dooryard and surprise her, but the last time that happened, I was afeared I would give her a heart attack, so now I give her warning, even though she doesn’t remember stuff too well anymore.My long-suffering younger brother and I decided we didn’t ever want to put this look on her face again. Would you? It scared us.

Hmmmm, seems like there’s a lot of free boobing going on in this family.

I’ve enlisted both my BFF’s from highschool to look in on her and cheer her up, and they are both fabulous about it. In fact, they love her too. Grammie seems to have more honourary grandchildren than she can remember names of. I just tell her to call everyone “Dear”. Everyone likes to be called dear. Except me. I cried the one time she couldn’t remember my name.

Grammie’s all fundamentalist religion, the kind that frowns on the Tool of Satan stuff I do, like palmisty, tarot, and even healing. I attribute that to ignorance. She had a hard life, and has to believe there is something better. It pains me that she fears for my very soul. Because I do not believe the exact same things that she does. Anyone who does not believe the exact same things that Grammie does is in great eternal peril of the soul.

When I was younger, I teased her more than I do now. She would just shake her head and worry about my soul, because I was all bad arse.

One time, a client had given me a souvenir shop voodoo doll that she had picked up in an actual souvenir shop in New Orleans. Not a real one or anything. She told me an amusing story about how she had punked an obnoxious customs officer in an elaborate joke, culminating with the revelation of the voodoo doll. It had me rolling on the floor, and needing to pee.

I told Grammie this story, about how she had enlisted various people to go through customs and inquire if this officer was experiencing ass pain. (I regret that Americans don’t use the much kinder term arse) Quite a lot of them asking got the interest of the officer, and when my client revealed the voodoo doll, it had a pin sticking out of its arse.

Then I ceremoniously presented Grammie with the souvenir voodoo doll and told her it was her birthday present. I’m so very thoughtful that way.

Poor Grammie.

As soon as I left, she burned it in the stove. Yes, that very stove in the background of the gobsmacked Grammie picture.

She never did know what to make of me. But you know what? She loves me anyway. And I’ve stopped messing with her. There are plenty of other folk to mess with. She’s earned a rest from my crap.

The End.