whew.

dad isn’t in the hospital anymore, which is good, because he HATE HATE HATED it there.  he only stayed two nights, but on the day they told him he could leave he was SO READY TO GET THE HELL OUT that if he’d had the strength, he’d have just stormed right out.

instead, we waited around for what seemed like forever.  the thing about the hospital is that you have no control over anything.  dad wouldn’t lie in the bed, but spent the whole time sitting in the chair.  i guess he finally got in bed to sleep, but he didn’t get a lot of sleep because of the constant hospital activity.

he’s much happier at home with shortie and gizmo, but his breathing isn’t good. some days are better than others.  i’ve been trying to make him lots of good meals, fattening stuff with meat, because he’s lost a lot of weight.  i’ve been making a lot of white sauce for him, even though i hate making it and it takes forever to get it the right thickness.

and last week a friend of amy’s went into the hospital because her brain was bleeding.  a bleeding brain is never a good thing.  she’s still in the ICU.  could be an aneurism, the last i heard, they didn’t know exactly what it is.

oh, and a really nice guy i knew took his own life on wednesday.

Jason Goodreau, i was in a couple of “Danger Adult Content” shows he directed.  i hadn’t seen him much since then, but he was such a sweet, funny, kind, gentle soul. A modest, unassuming kind of guy, but really talented.

he smiled a lot.

just because a person smiles a lot, doesn’t necessarily mean anything.  i feel you just can’t know what’s going on a person’s head.

it’s just so tragic.

it makes me want to sit down with everybody i know, with everybody i’ve ever met, and have a good listen and find out how they are, make sure they’re really doing ok.

but i guess you just can’t know.

so all in all, things have been better around here.

here’s a funny picture of lester for you.  i feel like if i could just make people laugh, they’d be ok. Lester makes me laugh, almost every day.

yes, les has burst right out of the bag, and after diving inside it and busting through, he continued to battle with chester.

he’s a very funny and loveable kitty, except the other day there was a dead cardinal lying on the kitchen floor.  we knew it was the work of lester; how did he manage to kill such a big bird, with no front claws, plus why was a bird dumb enough to fly into les’s backyard kitty prison?

then i started to worry that maybe the bird had fought back, and lester might be lying somewhere bleeding, so i rushed into the backyard.

i called him, but no lester.

i got down on my hands and knees and peered under the porch and there he was, sprawled out in the dirt, a big lazy dopey grin on his face, and a little bit of feather on his lip.

bad kitty.

that’s it for now.

ok then,

mrs. hughes.