I've been. Hospitals, rehab, the medicare rat race. deciding what to do.
She's not bad enough to go to a nursing home, not good enough to live on her own and no money for assisted living.
Don't even go to the place where she would live with us. She's mean. One of those women who charm the world and torture their own.
She's miserable in her own skin and unhappy at the choices made in her life, which are, of course, someone else's fault.
What I've learned from her, because of her, really- is you own your own life, you can choose to be happy or not, no one will knock on your door and hand anything to you, especially the life you want, or think you want.
Other than the mother-bomb I'm on hella deadlines this week.
I did go to Toronto for a photoshoot, Amy has pictures - I'm the one braying.
The house continues to shed stuff. It still feels good.
Look for me after March 5th, when I start destashing.
I'll be starting with 2 10-skein bags of koigu.