At the August first mark everything went to poo. Honestly, I was a little prepared for this. Life changes always seem to come at once, like a big herd of differentness running at you like you have ice cream in your pocketses. And since I have a big one coming up in a month (a month!) chances are/Murphy’s law/obviously more big changes are bound to flock like the salmon of capistrano.
First, and most obviously, we have a wedding. Yay! If you have not checked out our wedding website, I am going to sit here and pout until you do. Go on now, shoo.
See? I told you it was cool. Anyway. Before you ask and drive me insane, all the plans are going pretty well. We have a meeting with the cake maker next week. And our invitations are mailed. We’re doing the favor thing right now – which should be pretty easy because of the internet. The only thing causing a little tension, well two things, are the fact that our “caterer” backed out last night and the inability of my mother to decide on a dress to wear. She’s already bought two and found a $250 dress yesterday at a bridal gown shop when we went to look at tiaras and slips. She is stressing out more about her dress than I ever did about mine. But that’s Sharebear for you.
In a 180 degree turn from topic, my grandmother has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. This does not come as a surprise to anyone who spends any time around her. She used to be quick as a whip, but now she tends to forget things she asked you to do and unfortunately, things she buys with a credit card. My aunt, who never really had a firm grasp on how to interact with her mother, is determined to put her in a home. My grandmother, who knows precisely how to shut my aunt down, flatly refuses. Everytime one of my aunts, uncles, or parents try to talk to her about it, she gets paranoid, believing it a conspiracy to get at her money. It’s really hard on us grandkids, because our family has never been very close and now we’re being forced to communicate with each other. I am trying to convince my grandmother to write a book and am trying to schedule a time to go in to help her start writing with my laptop. We’ll see how that goes. She just discovered online shopping, which is a very bad thing for her to discover. Trust me.
My father has been splitting his time between dealing with Ahma and getting Manager S settled in the garage. He’s installed an air conditioner in there and set up a little workshop area so she can assemble pictures comfortably while pregnant. It’s very strange to have her every weekday for lunch. She’s trying to convince her husband to let her adopt Moose, which would be a good thing. That dog is going to drive my father insane with his antics.
And speaking of dogs, for those of you who know who she is, Wubby is living with us. And since Moose has dug a bunch of holes in the backyard, Wubby must stay inside most of the time. So far, she has peed repeatedly all over K’s bed and the living room floor. She has way too much energy for us lethargic humans and lets us know all the time. However, she is only here until Sunday. K has finally completely (hopefully) ended it with D-hole. *initiate party sequence* My parents are very relieved. And although the way it ended was not very fun for anyone except maybe the girl he cheated with, we all respect K a lot more and feel bad for her. But as a result of all this brouhaha, K will be moving to Marysville. On Sunday. Yes, this Sunday. She’s applied to and been accepted to Gene Juarez in Seattle and has begun the process of packing up her clothes and pictures to move up with some friends in Marysville. Partly to get out of the house, partly to get started with her life, and partly to get the heck away from D-hole. I have jury duty in November and we’re all crossing our fingers that I’ll get out of it by being in the group selected for a case against D-hole with his “tobacco and glass” shop. Anyway…wishful thinking.
I suppose that’s all of the big changes. Marriage. Death. Moving in. Moving out. College. Dogs. Books. Pictures. That about sums up life, right? I guess I left out babies. Nobody in my family is having a baby, but my matron of honor is, so I guess that counts. Which reminds me, I should probably go put in a call about bridesmaid dresses…