Many doctors and nurses and one hospital later, all is well. Thank you for the prayers!
My overactive mother is wrapped up in a sling and a brace, and no head injury--thank God, because the mental image of a cracked helmet was just about too much for me to handle. Ever seen the beginning of Cutting Edge? That image of his hockey helmet spinning around on the ice was kin to what was going through my brain.
When I talked to my mom this morning, she was trying to figure out how she could ride her bike while in a sling. I told her--again--that my sister would handcuff to something immobile if she tried.
I'm driving up to Buffalo tomorrow. When I lived near my law school, it was a ten hour drive, sometimes more. Now it's only eight, maybe less, but I still have this ingrained horror of it being a ten hour car ride. It was so long, and so boring, except for those moments where the semi trucks try to run you off the road. Vor says this is because I have a car that screams, "GIRL!" Please. Toyota Corollas that are a pretty pale green do not scream girl. They scream, "I am a safe driver who read all the consumer reports on this car and who never speeds and who cares too much about my gas mileage and...okay fine, you can run me off the road. I'll just move out of the way. Have a good day!" That's what my car screams.
I can't wait to see all the kiddies. It just dawned on them this morning that I will be there tomorrow, and I am more thankful than ever that I singed up for a text messaging plan. I have been inundated.
But... (there's always a but, isn't there? One of my uncles would take this moment to point out that we all have asses kiddo, so of course there's always a butt! Ahem. I digress) we are going to put an offer on a house! Waahoo! I feel guilty leaving Vor to deal with all this. My physical presence isn't needed for an offer, I know; it's just that when he and I have long serious conversations about the future, the finances, the dog conumdrum, we do much better face to face. So this will require discussing offers over the phone. Not hard, just wish I would be here for it. Again, toe pick.
You know what? The amount of text messages I have received is the last ten minutes is ridiculous. I have to go deal with these, and my laundry, and the tomatoes inthe garden, and the packing, and...