Thursday, February 14, 2013
Close to Nowhere
I’m sicker than I thought
• My bronchitis has come back with a vengeance and I think I’m sicker than I thought I was to begin with.
Daughter Dana is learning to quilt, so Saturday she and youngest granddaughter Grem hung out with me in my sewing room. Grem said they were “sitting with me” because I felt bad. I thought it was because I have all the quilting stuff -- fabric, gadgets, iron, etc. -- that Mom needed to quilt, but what do I know?
One of their beloved cats (a girl cat named Larry) had died in the thunderstorm Thursday night. She was an inside cat and no one knew she was outside until they found her the next day.
And a much-loved puppy dog was experimenting with a new home (she’s back now though!), so Grem was feeling somewhat bereft anyway.
She came in my sewing room clutching a wadded up dishtowel (since disposed of) covering a very, very sick-looking rat. Yes, a rat.
I detest rats. Can’t even say how much I detest rats. But, they’ve had a couple and this is the last one left. So, Grem brought Shinga into my sewing room in tears and what was I gonna say?
I’m a grandmother, so I didn’t say anything that wasn’t sympathic. Oh, occassionally, I’d screech, “Get that rat off... whatever.”
Dana soon decided that Shinga was just very, very cold and so the poor little thing was wrapped in the same dish towel and sat on the floor next to my heater.
She stayed in my sewing room with us all that afternoon. As she warmed up, she gradually began walking around and eating at stuff Grem was giving her.
That’s when my panicked screeching would begin. “Get that rat...”
They love that rat. She rides around on their shoulders and they hold her and pet her and talk to her. She even comes to her name. They say she is very smart.
I say “I hate rats!” And I still can’t quite believe that I let them bring their rat into my sewing room...
• I went to church Sunday morning sick and coughing, so I could hear the special speaker Dennis Jernigan. I’m not sure what kind of “minister” he actually is -- he writes songs by the hundreds, preaches, tells stories, sings and plays several instruments, including the piano and is quite often funny.
He tells about his children a lot -- he and his wife Melissa have nine. Yes, I said nine.
He says, “No, none are adopted. And yes, we know what causes it.”
I took cough drops, tried very hard not to cough loudly and thoroughly enjoyed the morning service.
Even without the rat!
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