You and your family are in my thoughts, Jesse.

Jesse, sending lots of ~ma to you and your grandma and your whole family.

Oh, Jesse, that's rough. Keeping you in my thoughts!

Lots of ~ma for Jesse and her family.

I'm sorry about the news, and the missed phone call, Jesse. My thoughts will be with you and your family today.

Hang tight and peace to you, Jesse. Don't beat yourself up about the phone call. Unless there was also a drunken coke binge with loud music going on at the same time--sometimes you're legit in the wrong place.

Non-hugs to your entire family.

In a separate post, I managed to wake up without my alarm this morning (not only was it not in my room, it didn't go off anyway--did it miss me?). I have made an *entire* lunch, including a sandwich, fruit, and appropriate dessert. The kitchen is even half clean from all that, and will be clean before I go.

I should stop lounging here with the tea, though. It's just so tea-ey.

*And* I think it's time for a (virtual) trip to Adagio today.

Headline o' the day:

Titanic lump of fat & wet-wipes dislodged from sewer

Noted tax-avoiders Thames Water's press release trumpets the news that they have excavated the largest ever "fatberg" -- a technical term denoting a huge, impacted lump of "festering food fat mixed with wet wipes" -- from a London sewer.

“Given we’ve got the biggest sewers and this is the biggest fatberg we’ve encountered, we reckon it has to be the biggest such berg in British history.

“The sewer was almost completely clogged with over 15 tonnes of fat. If we hadn’t discovered it in time, raw sewage could have started spurting out of manholes across the whole of Kingston.

“It was so big it damaged the sewer and repairs will take up to six weeks.

Oy, Jesse. My sympathies.

We've thought my Dad was doing pretty well recently, but yesterday was pretty sobering. We took him to the museum--they finally opened the natural history hall--and he seemed to be having a good time, but after a couple of hours he got really disoriented and started bumping into things. He couldn't identify me or my sister at any distance, and was generally pretty out of it.

So my sister took him home & he rested and had dinner with them. And he perked up, some. But when we were waiting for my BIL to bring the car around at the museum he basically said that he was ready to die now. And he told my sister over dinner that he's sure he doesn't have much time left.

This is a man with no chronic health conditions, full mobility, and only mild cognitive problems. We were hoping he'd have at least a couple of good years now that the burden of caring for my mother is over.

SIGH.

I'm going to email his doctor today, and check in with Dad later to see if he's feeling better. I suspect some of this is from no longer having what he saw as a purpose in his life.

Oh, Consuela. That's so hard.