josh

Visiting mom

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A few weeks ago, the owners of the quilting store Mom was working at, decided to close the store. Mom was blue about the store's closing, asking, "Why do all the jobs I like not work out?" The store was very convenient for her: it was close to home for her, had hours she liked, coworkers were good people.

I had no answer for her.

A week later, my brother lost his job, too. He worked in the housing industry. With the downturn in the housing market, his job became uncertain for a while, then, poof gone.

My response was the response it always should have been, but hasn't been lately with all the work I've been doing: I flew out to Arizona to spend time with both of them. I flew out on Thursday evening, flying back on Sunday morning. Mom made the rule before I flew out of "No computer."

Yeah, that didn't last long. It lasted just long enough for Mom to say, "I don't know. Kitt, look it up on the web."

The weekend was nice and relaxing. I still had work to do, and did some of it. No as much as I would have liked, but, well, I think that will always be the case. B came up and the three of us tooled around chatting, eating and, well, getting massages.



Pup returns an orange.


Hula! Hula! Hooooolah!


Self portrait.


Mom and food.


Me and the same food.

Mom warned me that we were going to a quilting event, where I should expect to spend about five hours amongst quilters. Me? I can sit for a large number of hours happily content with my computer: give me an electrical outlet and I'm just fine.

I expected Mom to spend time quilting. The group would spend time working on group projects as well as individual projects. The evenings are focused work time on quilts. So, We brought her quilting basket full of projects. We brought in her sewing machine. We brought in our contribution to the potluck dinner.

Mom didn't quilt.

She spent the whole time organizing the various quilts the group was making for different projects. She talked with people, sure, the time is a good social time, too. It's interesting to watch Mom in her element, to see her take charge, laugh, work, clearly enjoy the time and the tasks. It's nice.


Though, I think her sewing machine was lonely.


You have every other disease

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Growing up, my little brother used to clap in the house. He started when I was around ten years old, and he was six. He'd enter a room and clap clap clap.

Drove me nuts.

I told him to stop it. I told him to stop with the clapping already. I yelled at him. I did everything I could to get him to stop with the GD clapping, but he continued until he just grew out of it.

Around the same time he grew out of it, I grew into it. I randomly clap when I'm walking. When I don't have anything on my shoulders, and my arms are swinging free, I'll clap and make other percussion noises with my hands.

Last night, after Kris and I crawled into bed, but before either of were really settled down to go to sleep, I got back up and wandered to the bathroom. After doing my business, I returned and crawled back into bed.

"Do you think you might have Tourette's?"

"No."

"Wait a minute. You have every other disease known to man. Why not Tourette's?"

It was then I realized I had announced my return to the room with a single clap.

"Well, maybe."