Things have been hilariously awfully tragically hectic around our home lately. I know that doesn’t make sense, but now you get an idea of what it’s been like.

The hilarious part has been watching how much my sisters take over when my mother is gone. A year ago, Kiki would be the …okay, y’know… we have a kitten named kiki and calling my sister by that name isn’t going to work anymore. So..uhhh….Elle would be the one to take over the cleaning and answering the phone and taking messages and such. But now it’s RJ. Everyday she’s come home from school and cleaned up the kitchen, bathroom, her room, and occasionally the family room. Not that Elle doesn’t help, but she’s gone at work most of the time. I don’t really make any messes other than in my room – and my knitting sitting in a pile on the couch – so I usually just clean up behind myself as I go and call it good.

Also, with my mother being gone for a week or two, my father becomes an entirely different person. Which isn’t wholly unexpected in a man. No longer is my mother calling him everyday at 4:45 to remind him to take so-and-so somewhere or to be home for dinner at six. Now, he’s working until I get to work or the manager leaves and then eating a PB&J sandwich, taking RJ to the mall to let her buy something to eat and then hanging out in the gallery working until about 11. He’s massively grumpy – chewing us out for the slightest infraction. For instance, yesterday I used spray paint outside. He was upset because it smelled like spray paint. Outside. I suppose I could have taken a big box fan out with me and blown the fumes away, but it seemed a little redundant what with the wind blowing.

You may ask – but Rogue, where is your mother? Well, she’s in North Carolina at the moment. She and her college roomie are still very close and recently, Anita, her roomie, was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. So she flew back to say goodbye and to have some good old fashioned college fun before she leaves. Or something like that. I’m only being trite about it because I’m hurting. No disrespect meant.

And this isn’t the only touch with death our family has had in the past few weeks. Elle and her boyfriend have been dealing with the sudden death of both his father and stepmother. Which is bringing them closer…which my family considers a bad thing. I don’t like the guy, but I don’t hate the guy. I’m just nice to him when he’s around and don’t counsel Elle to do anything dumb. My mother is panicking, as usual, and trying to get Elle out of town to avoid her being trapped in another unhealthy relationship.

Yesterday, our kitten, Kiki (see why I can’t call my sister that anymore?) pulled a vase over on top of herself and cut her leg through the epidermis and into the dermis layer right in the crook (our knee area). And since it was in a joint, she was spraying blood everywhere as she ran away from our frantic attempts to capture her and put pressure on the wound. After wrangling that terrified cat into a towel and cleaning the wound, I must have looked like I’d been in a trauma unit with the blood all over me and the house. It was on the walls, pooled and dripped on the floor, and all over our clothes and sink and towels. Needless to say, the carpet cleaners will be back again for the third time in six months to clean our carpet. Poor Kiki. But she seems to be doing well despite the dime sized wound on her leg. She’s keeping it clean and my father is applying daily applications of pet neosporin despite her attempts to avoid him whenever possible.

And all of this amidst the flurry of wedding planning which is happening – and now under control thanks to ToG, my manager, my almost-mother-in-law, and my mother’s reassurances to just forget about having a budget because “she knows I’m a thrifty person.” heh. *rubs hands together*