first red leaf (of the year). (listening to Tarzan soundtrack by Phil Collins)
I was surprised to find a red leaf this morning, fresh, recently fallen. Red is not quite descriptive. The "stem" was a bit yellow, the red that bright glorious fall leaf red, not the darker fall leaf read. With green, I know it'll be a fall green making the leaf look like a touch of Christmas. But, it's almost spring/lime green. Now. Not a month from now, which is still too soon for school to start back up.
Just yesterday, M's report card FINALLY arrived. No blasted real reason it shouldn't have right after school ended (they have a new policy, all camp fees must be paid first, also, WTF? entirely bogus, AND, yet paid the week followingFather's Day, when C decided tofinally give June 1st child support). Anyway, itcame. Along with M's summer assignments due the first day of school. C didn't get the assignments, also, but did receive a copy of the report card. One section mentions a school assignment (basically, read for pleasure. She can do that one:)
I'm pretty sure it's Wednesday. Sometimes, I forget. Beth thought Dad would be moved to the physical rehab place today; perhaps that'd been the plan at one point. Heck, he has thetransfer approved, to move to a regular hospital room and bed, but, he's still in the ICU. At this point, it's almost frustrating. Yet, he gets good care, and it's a nice room, considering. I recall the ICU where my grandmother had been, so many there in one large room. Not nearly as nice.
The room nextto dad's has visitors donning gowns and masks and head coverings and such, just as a visitor did the other day for that room. I pray he's okay, or will be. Tonight, I peeked in some of the other rooms as I walked by. Usually I don't, to respect ehri privacy.
An hour and a half of watching Dad in deep enough sleep, and Everybody Loves Raymond and some silly animated show with an almost-human dog, I leave him a note and leave. I think I know the room where the husband is, the one the wife visits whom I walked out with, oh, some night, Sunday perhaps? We were both as if a bit distracted, and laughed with each other that we both should know the way out by now. She seemed stressed. All these people, worried, their loved ones truly needing ICU care right now.
I sit in the car for a few moments, listening to Tarzan, "You'll be in my heart," M's song. And "Trashing the Camp," which I'm reminded of by her performing troupe's new percussion dance. She loved this cd, wanting it much more so than the movie when it came out. She used to be enamored by Phil Collins' work. I miss her.
We talked today, which is great! "Dad wants to talk with you when we're done." He did have to put that damper on, eh? "I'm at work right now, and I'd like to just go on to the hospital, honey; I can call him back later." M seemed stressed. "Is he right there?" "Kind-of." Ugh. The last thing I wanted to do was talk with him, can't she and I just enjoy a conversation, not combine things like this? Yet, the really last thing I want to do is put stress on her, particularly for things not of her doing.
So, we exchanged our "I love you"'s and I talked with him. Or, more so, listened. He was incredibly rude and cold to me at the feis Sunday, making a point to push himself between M and I, things like that. Whatever. Life's too short, and I primarily try to simply ignore that attitude. He got on my case, with our girls in the adjacent room, and other families in another, the previous Sunday at "transfer" time, also. BIG SIGH. He's trying to manipulate the court order.... get me to agree to something that isn't just a minor inconvenience but alters a LOT.
But, I talked. The day after that Sunday was when Dad went into the ER. Hmmm, was C recording this, or knew M was still right there, or what? He said he understood that things like this are never convenient almost nicely (I'd also expressed sympathy for his cousins recent tragic passing, one he had not been close with, but still). I wish I could trust him as if we were old friends still.
Somehow, the report card said M was absent14 days last year, and tardy some amount, and he kept asking if that's something we should be concerned about. Well, she was absent only once last year, albeit another time was almost 1/2 day, so that likely got counted as another absent day. Obviously, the record keeping is incorrect, and she got all A's and one 87 so a high B, and no teacher ever expressed concern, so I'm thinking, "No." He did try to stay digging on that.
M and I talked of feiseanna, and the boy who "swept" Prizewinner (gettin all firsts), and twice M got 2nds, that he just got 15th at NAN's, so she should feel good. She IS feeling confident, that it's a matter of time. "Mom, you said you did sign me up as all Prizewinner at the [next] feis?" "Yep. I just felt you'd move up, but I knewI could change it if need be." (M got first in her Novice Treble Jig on Sunday, yeah, I'd gotten that one added for her (Sh didn't include all of M's dances), so M moves up to Prizewinner level in that dance, i.e., her last Novice to move up.)
We talked of their newest cat (Sh likes cats like I do), and our cats, what M did in Lancaster the otherday, school and report card (she just finished reading Lily's Crossing), how she did find her cell phone (they had hidden it), and she tried to check messages quickly but didn't have a lot of time -- she didn't see my text messages or hear my voice ones to her yet). She's missingbeing home, feeling confident in her dancing "it's a matter of time, I keep getting 2nds and 3rds" in Prizewinner dances. Oddly, M doesn't know what she's doing the rest of this week, or the weekend, or next week. Her 3 weeks there are halfway done, (the 3 weeks that should be 2 but life goes on). Summer is halfway through or so.
That red leaf. School summer assignments, butnot yet word on their 8th grade class trip end of summer. For the weekend C is saying hewants but has no plans for. I'll write him, though, the weekend he actually wants, I can switch for, just don't go modifying the whole court order from now to just under 5 years from now.
A fire engine or ambulance, I forget which, beats me home, joining two other emergencyvehicles. A building near mine had a gas leak, I learned later. Daisy is eager to go out, yet scared (hearing the engine sounds) and retreats at first, me encouraging her when my cell phone rings. It's Dad. He woke up, missing me. The nurse who helped him dial reads him my note in the background. It's not the same to visit this way, but at least he knows he's not alone. I almost put up a photo of M or whatever I had in my purse, on his bulletin board. Ironically, I finally found a cheap but decent summer purse to replace my burgandy velveteen (ack, yes, summer fashion fax paus). The only photos I have in there are on M's digital camera. It's time to wash his hair again. He asks how his house is coming along. We talk of Doug.
At least I found a dress and a skirt today, clearance so affordable. I actually like them:) AND they fit. I'll get a blazer to the cleaners, and my one pair of long dress pants that still fit (to be hemmed in other than "silver threads," yep, I staple). I didn't want to think of this right now, yet, I go downtown for 4 of the next 9 days, and almost none of my work clothes still fit. I struggle with clothes shopping now, monetarily and fit-wise. I basically went in and out today, I mostly hate trying anything on lately, but I needed something. That's the worst part of this middle-40's hormonal spread crap. Nothing fits any more. Blech! :) I played with colors and clothes for a few moments tonight, encouraged.
Okay, enough rambling. Daisy is snoring. I assume dad's been back to sleep. I assume Doug had a decent doctor's appointment today. I even ran into Barn Director today, still in summer camp, "I saved a t-shirt and sunscreen for M." Good, as somehow M didn't get hers given to her. M wants to help out there the rest of the summer. It's going so quickly (I think Barn Director has other ideas). That first red leaf of the year even. Dad stays in the ICU and the rest of the world j just goes so quickly passing by.