Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa

So...apparently I haven't made a blog post since September.  How is that possible?  To be fair, I haven't made a Facebook post in that time, either.  Everything is so mundane and commonplace that I don't really have anything to report.

We spent the first week of the year getting sick, one after another.  Our weekly evenings are an endless round of Monday, swim; Tuesday, Bible study; Wednesday, swim; Thursday, deliver meals, then swim; Friday, vaulting; Saturday, a break (sometimes!), Sunday, vaulting.  I drive Theresa to work at the barn every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning, and usually have to pick her up a few hours later.  

Clare earned her driver's license in the middle of January, so I'm grateful to have somebody else do a little bit of the running.  Clare will sometimes pick up Theresa after work and they'll go to work out.  I"m also hoping to get them both started with guitar lessons any time now.  We were supposed to start this week, but the instructor got the flu.

On a not-so-minor distressing note, on Saturday, January 13, while the family and I were headed to do a little shopping and hit the Chinese buffet, we received a call from Andy's mom that his dad had fallen in the kitchen and couldn't get back in his chair.  His dad had been sick with a chest cold for weeks and was increasingly weak.  We scrapped the plans for the evening and headed back to the homestead, where Andy and his mother were unable to get him off the floor.  They called 911, and ultimately THREE ambulances arrived at the location (blocking the ENTIRE street needlessly).  They got him into his chair but also convinced him to go the the hospital.

His dad was weak and dehydrated, his cardiac ejection rate was 30%, and he was fighting, we soon learned, three infections - urinary tract, bladder, and yeast.  Urinary tract infections in older persons have some strange symptoms - hallucinations and delusions to mention a few.  Sometimes his dad seemed fine; other times he would see birds flying in the room or tell his wife that he snuck out of the room and they couldn't find him for a couple hours.  This, coming from a man who didn't even have the strength to sit up.

All of Andy's brothers have been coming and going for the past few weeks, and in between Andy's poor mom has been in that house, alone, and recovering from carpal tunnel surgery.  Thankfully there have been enough people around to lend a hand and take the edge off the fear and loneliness.


Yesterday he was discharged and moved to nursing facility, where he will hopefully cooperate with rehab and get strong enough to come home.  The news today was that he was out of bed for several hours, sitting in a wheelchair for the first time.  This was huge, since he has it in his head that his father died at age 77, his current age, and this is the year for him to die as well.

OK.  I don't think there's anything else.

Time for some pictures.

We started the year with dental checkups.

One of the days when I was sick in bed, Philip couldn't find anybody to make him something to eat.  I awoke to find him at my bedside with all the fixings for a half-made PB&J, telling me that he did everything else ALL BY HIMSELF but he couldn't get the lid off the jelly jar.

I usually don't button up my coat, let alone wear a hat, but early January was cold enough to babushka.

We beat an escape room before Conor went back for the spring semester.

Uncle Vince and Aunt Pat passed along Meg's unused Wii, and the fun's been non-stop.  We did have a Wii but it recently stopped reading discs, so this has been a real treat.

Kirsten forgot a binky last time Maverick was here. 
Don't ask me why, but it was the hottest item in the house for a while.

This may have been the day she got her license.

Some days have been in the 50s, others have been in the teens.  After a melt, some water in a sled froze in the shape of a shield.

Regina is making great progress with reading and writing,
but she maintains that she Hates. Every. Minute.

Speaking of, for some reason her hair has been exceptionally ratty lately. 
She hates hairbrushes almost as much as she hates her reading workbook.


We've been reading our way through the Chronicles of Narnia since November.  Regina loves it the most.  Our M.O. has been to read through a book, and then watch the corresponding movie.  Unfortunately they have only made the first three movies, and we're on the fifth book!

I don't know if we've named him, but he joined our family at Christmas. 
He's a reminder that we are dust, and to dust we will return,
and that every day should be lived with our end in mind.  Memento Mori!