{{{Emmett}}}

{{{Connie}}}

Susan! That's really excellent! I'm sure that you will lose your shyness in no time.

Written and in the company out box. Two pages in 14-point type for easier reading of old eyes. I made no mention of past troubles, only said that I heard through Amy's mom that Mother was hoping for a letter and that now that I had her current address I could write. And I said I hoped she'd be able to get out and about in the spring. Nothing--I hope--to insinuate that I had any idea that she might not be able to.

Told her a few things about my current life, mentioned Hubby's health problems. I've noticed that elderly people like talking about other people's ailments. Put in a compliment about how well she kept up with things when she was living in the country by herself, then said I hoped she was being well taken care of.

The response--if any--will tell me if she wants to do any clearing of the air. I'm actually quite content with a "Ignore the dead, stinking elephant corpse in the corner" approach. Especially as any stinks are not likely to be a problem much longer.

Oh, and I slipped in a paragraph about how I wished I had more time to keep up with the genealogy work. I seem to be the only one who cares enough to look into these things, as my next older sister--the only one actually in the same area as Mother--actually said, "Why bother?" Yes, this is a subtle reminder that if Mother still has dispensation of family records that I'm here as a ready recipient. I don't care about the land. But I want the records. I can't just pop up after a decade, though, and say, "Hand 'em over."

If not, if this is my last communication with that side of the family, I am content. There were no lies, no prevarications, just a bit of not bringing up things that might only bring drama. I can live with that.

Hmmm. Okay, now he's walking okay, but it still hurts. What the fuck? I hate this. Now I've commited to a doctor's appointment, and called into work and he's looking fine. Stupid human bodies.

Nah, babe. Utter a little thanks, because that was some kinda scary. Take him to the doctor, anyhow. It was freaky enough, he could still stand a visit. I am *so* relieved he is improving.

Dear Emmett,

Get all better, and stop scaring Daddy.

Love,
All Your Cyber Aunties and Uncles

Connie, that sounds perfect for the situation.

That sounds like a good letter, connie. I hope it's what your mother is looking for.

{{{Connie}}}

I hope Emmett feels better soon.

Yay! for the project being done, Sparky.

Yay! for the project being done, Sparky.

Not done yet. Somewhere between 1-3 weeks left, depending. I look forward to the day when I have a co-author who isn't legally blind and can take on some more of the image editing work. Ha!

I'll need to develop a green thumb, but one of the first things I want to do is pull up all the monkey grass.

I wish you joy. Monkey grass is one of those things that are going to survive nuclear war. It has little bulbs and you never get them all. If you really want it gone, you're talking about an investment in Roundup Pro.

Connie, you did the civilized thing and wrote the letter. Nothing obligates you to visit or go to the funeral.

I hope Emmett's okay and it was just one of those strange growing pain things. I'm going to the doctor this afternoon for a mysterious pain that was, of course, much worse yesterday and got better the minute I decided to go to the doctor.

I was looking ahead, sparky. That was an anticipatory Yay!

(definitely not me not paying enough attention. Nope, not at all)

Is monkey grass what we call crab grass, up here?