Tending to Iva Lee

Saturday, I passed up a chance to see a flick with The Gang of Four (or as many of the Four as could be scraped together!), and the Walaka Salsa-Festivale, but it was all for a good reason--K. was coming home. Refreshed after two weeks on Oahu, she was returning to the Island, and our humble shack. Things were different: a new, functioning shower was installed with new patching and painting by me; the wood-crib was filled with very large pieces of tree that had previously been sitting out, killing the grass, but were now slowly curing to be used as firewood; a particularly unstable walk stone was re-dug and inserted to much more sure-footing (and a troublesome 70 pound boulder was extricated to make it so); the house was suitably cleaned and brightened. All to the good. Our friend Pat came with and we sat around jawing and I made a very nice porcine stir-fry with a multitude of vegetables and some fruit content over a bed of yaki-soba that won approval from all.

Sunday, K. and I bade farewell to Pat and headed up to Military-town for the day to look over real-estate and do some tentative shopping around, with a walk-through of its local Holland festival. We had a fine dinner, and headed home.

Monday, I got up early, did some work on the computer, sent out a few resumes, and took Smokey to the pet-sitter. The plumber was coming early to install a new sink in the bathroom--and it's quite the sight. Big, white and shiny (with working faucets that don't drip or talk back!), he did an excellent job of putting it in. I told him how great the shower was (Katheryn took her first shower in it and announced "Suddenly, I LOVE my house!"), and he chuckled. "Looks like I'm 2 for 2!" Nice work. Good contractor.

But then we got a call. K.'s sister called. Their mother had taken a fall at physical-therapy class and was being taken to the hospital. Symptoms were troubling and there was understandable concern. Now, K., her sister and mother are all petite people. So, if there was some transporting of Mom to be done, they couldn't do it. I volunteered. I could handle Mom--by comparison they make me look buff--and that's just about the only people you can say that of. We were planning on going to Eugene on Monday, but the prognosis came in and it wasn't a stroke, or her heart--she would have to stay in the hospital a couple of days and take it easy, but there was nothing dire, at least not for someone who's a feisty 85 year old. We held off travelling 'til today.

So, Smokey's at the sitter's, Fu's holding down the fort--the sitter's feeding her--and K. and I are are helping when her mother deems it acceptable that our help is, indeed, required. K.'s mom, Iva Lee, is a hoot. Born in Missouri, a tough self-sufficient pioneer woman, she does most things by scratch, attends church every Sunday, is tough, facile (I'm typing this on her computer) and the last person who'd accept help from anybody. But today, she is, from us. In the past, K. and I took her to see her old home in Missouri. We took her to see her first grand-child married in Vienna. And today, we're cooking, cleaning and making sure she gets rest. She's being a good patient, even though insisted on leaving the hospital today, ahead of schedule. She's on her best behavior.

I'll be here a couple of days to make sure she's on her feet and out of the woods (I've got a couple of industrials and three short cartoons to sound-design and mix by the end of the week). K.'s staying through the weekend. Life is temporarily interrupted...but so it goes.
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Song in me Head: "Thunderball" (the Johnny Cash demo)