Florida Ruminations Revisited
Nov. 12th, 2003 02:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lwoodSee? I meant it!
Oh! A Eastern bluejay! In the birdbath! Now that's something I haven't seen in years. Yay little blue corvids on Wednesdays... er. *ahem* Anyway...
My maternal grandmother is old. Somewhere on the dark side of eighty. So, she's broken her hip, had heart trouble, sundry other woes and tribulations.
Almost a month ago, these came to a new and more disturbing head: congestive heart failure and a nastily recurrent bladder infection. After a couple weeks in the hospital, she was sent to a "rehab center," by which we mean "more care than a nursing home, less than a hospital, and hoo boy you could be here awhile."
Mom went uselessly spastic, dropped everything and flew down there. My Uncle Mike was even more useless in the crisis, and apparently can't even really talk about it. My brothers drove down, both in the same weekend until it was gently suggested they alternate instead.
Billy comes complete with a wife. They're... um... on the low side of average intelligence and... um... very well-suited to each other. Equally, my youngest brother and I are well-suited to being somewhre (anywhere) else, 'cos we're both pretty damn smart.
I reckon Billy got Mom's brains, and Mikey and I got Dad's. This seems to correlate well with preferred color palettes (what's Mikey's excuse for dark blue, grey, and black!?), career moves (IT!), and predilection to religious nuttery. My eyes are Mom-shaped ont he inside, Dad-colored on the outside, but Mikey dodged the bad-eye bullet (go him).
But Mikey doesn't have medical jargon, and he would have been the closest thing to useful. Was This It? How long did she have?
Dammit, how much money that I didn't really have was I going to have to throw, and would I just have to throw it all again in six months!?
I needed information, which I didn't have, wasn't going to get, and still, really, don't have. Oh, well. This isn't the grandmother I like nearly as much at my father's mother: were this Grandma, though, that side of the family is far more canny and would have given me better reports, so that all fits together.
So I went. She hadn't seen me in some time, and I owed it. Ancestor veneration starts while they're still alive, after all.
Here I am. Florida remains flat, only this time I have my own transportation (fortunate, as otherwise I would go stir-crazy). 'twould be impolitic not to visit the Osprey Bay people and my father in all of this, so I made plans to do both.
And bought tickets.
It was $100 cheaper to fly out of San Jose (SJC), which caused me to have a WTF moment: it's an hour's drive there from Oakland.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
countgeiger-the-Husband would have fetched me, but he had work. DLP would have reciprocated for all my trips to get her, but she won't go to SJC on a dare.
And, thanks to your fiends and mine at the TSA and their theft of basic civil liberties in the name of increased security, I had to be there at ten in the morning for a noon flight. Fuckers.
[rant about the TSA elided for your safety]
So I askedemberleo if she could take me to her place from the wedding and drop me off at the airport the net day, and she kindly consented. I flew out Sunday morning, about sixteen hours after The Wedding of the Year pentaclemoon, in whose reception I played some small part and wouldn't've missed for anything short of the funeral. My flight back would be a similar interval before Greyhaven's Fall Bardic, although I'd be missing a seidh session and a Hrafnar meeting in the middle.
But it had to be this week; any later and I wouldn't have my mother to be a buffer between me and the stepgrandfather and uncle, and it'd let me see her, too! Besides, I wasn't thrilled about going to Hrafnar because of all the argument over the proposed topic, and it's not like I hadn't had enough oracular ritual attendance points stocked up this summer, including a goodly chunk of chair time.
I changed planes in Houston. Thankfully, certain former Troth members did not dispatch a party past the Dread Portals of Security to invite me forcibly onto their Bog List. ;)
Demarus, Florida Steward and all-round Good Egg, met me in Tampa with his wife Tracy. We shot the breeze and he outlined his plans for Florida domination while we waited for my luggage and the rental car. Trothies here, take heed: Demarus is the most aggressive Troth-promoter I've yet seen, up to and including lending people that $20 if they don't have it on 'em.
The TSA opened my luggage. I hope they amused themselves with the contents. It's the ideas that are most dangerous, and those I need no suitcase to pack...
The rental car acquisition from Alamo went smoothly, and I recommend them: they'll take debit cards (Hertz and Avis do not), will hold no more than the expected amount of the contract (many companies do), but do want proof of your impending departure before they'll let that slide (e.g. a return ticket).
I had reserved an Economy-class car, very teeny. They suggested an upgrade for an extra $40 (at some discount, too) over the course of the retnal.
I considered my pocketbook.
I considered that it's a two-hour drive from Tampa to Gainesville, and three hours from Gainesville to Sarasota.
I called Mike, he agreed, and I got it. The counter lady said I could pick any car on the lot that was in my class.
Demarus and I walked out of the rental place, and as the doors opened, I said aloud, "I would like a blue car, and preferably of American make."
Wouldn't you know? The only blue car on the lot was, in fact, in my price class, and was a Saturn Ion.
Demarus quipped, "Yeah, someone's got their I on you all right."
Subtle as a brick, sometimes, these Powers that Be. It runs great, gets good mileage (30 mpg fwy, and I'm a leadfoot), and only had 1700 miles on it when I got in...
Spent Sunday night on Demarus's most excellent guest bed after eating his chili. Fascinating locally-produced orange-colored hot sauce to spice it with, too. He and/or Tracy left an cheese omelette for me in the oven the next morning, too, with crisp bacon and toast!
I'm very, very glad I brought a host-gift of some jewelry for Tracy, or I'd've felt terribly guilty.
Drove uneventfully to Gainesville.
I spent the next evening, night, and morning at my father's house. He's still got religion, although he didn't ask any heavy-duty questions until I was packing up to go, which enabled me to dodge neatly. I've been dreading faith-based questions out of them for over a decade, half-afraid that if I told them, I'd be rewarded with a deprogrammers' trip for my trouble, and that when I would be allowed to return, it'd be because I loved Jesus again.
In the meantime, in a move that will surprise no-one, I wasn't even there an hour before I was making their network go. It now runs beautiful broadband -- with full wireless, naturally. Damn, I'm Good.
I did come out, very slightly, to my youngest brother. He didn't freak out or spread around the news that I was bisexual, so this shouldn't hurt too badly. That night's revelation: Lorrie is pagan and has been for a decade. Small steps...
Then I was up Way Too Damn late reading Wolves of the Calla. Warning: the interworld bleed Steve-O has had for several books is going into an all-out hemorrhage here. This is a cuppa tea that I rather enjoy, so I don't mind, but if that's not your bag, beware.
Of course, true Tower junkies won't let that stop them...
Had a chat with Dad the next morning, where we had a couple attempts at faith-based debate (once I translated myself into camouflaging Baptist-appropriate jargon, I was fairly-well compatible). He tried to ask, "So, have you and Michael (i.e., my husband) come back to your roots and started exploring Christianity?"
There is just no good time to ask that question, is there? Too early, and I would have spooked and fled. now... and I had to leave. I ducked out.
I pointed out to Mikey that the game'd be up right quick if anyone did a web search on me; we'll see what comes of that, if anything. It'd turn up... a lot of very scary things, from their perspective.
So, with all that, I didn't get into Sarasota where my grandmother's locked up until 6PM. Unfortunately, I'd thought I'd get in there rather much earlier, so got yelled at for it between delighted shouts at the mere fact of my arrival. My grandmother is doing fairly well, considering: she's walking without a walker for short distances, and the therapists are willing to sign off on her next week. Unfortunately, that's after Mom and I have both gone home, but I feel good about that. It will be good to have a memory of her, still vital and sharp-tongued, in case I don't make it back before the last.
And so, here I am. In Florida again. It keeps trying to suck me in, and I keep dancing free.
No, Florida isn't Mars, but by now I know I've a right to be leery...
I'll be coming home on Friday, to SJC, around 7:30PM. Yay!
-- Lorrie
Oh! A Eastern bluejay! In the birdbath! Now that's something I haven't seen in years. Yay little blue corvids on Wednesdays... er. *ahem* Anyway...
My maternal grandmother is old. Somewhere on the dark side of eighty. So, she's broken her hip, had heart trouble, sundry other woes and tribulations.
Almost a month ago, these came to a new and more disturbing head: congestive heart failure and a nastily recurrent bladder infection. After a couple weeks in the hospital, she was sent to a "rehab center," by which we mean "more care than a nursing home, less than a hospital, and hoo boy you could be here awhile."
Mom went uselessly spastic, dropped everything and flew down there. My Uncle Mike was even more useless in the crisis, and apparently can't even really talk about it. My brothers drove down, both in the same weekend until it was gently suggested they alternate instead.
Billy comes complete with a wife. They're... um... on the low side of average intelligence and... um... very well-suited to each other. Equally, my youngest brother and I are well-suited to being somewhre (anywhere) else, 'cos we're both pretty damn smart.
I reckon Billy got Mom's brains, and Mikey and I got Dad's. This seems to correlate well with preferred color palettes (what's Mikey's excuse for dark blue, grey, and black!?), career moves (IT!), and predilection to religious nuttery. My eyes are Mom-shaped ont he inside, Dad-colored on the outside, but Mikey dodged the bad-eye bullet (go him).
But Mikey doesn't have medical jargon, and he would have been the closest thing to useful. Was This It? How long did she have?
Dammit, how much money that I didn't really have was I going to have to throw, and would I just have to throw it all again in six months!?
I needed information, which I didn't have, wasn't going to get, and still, really, don't have. Oh, well. This isn't the grandmother I like nearly as much at my father's mother: were this Grandma, though, that side of the family is far more canny and would have given me better reports, so that all fits together.
So I went. She hadn't seen me in some time, and I owed it. Ancestor veneration starts while they're still alive, after all.
Here I am. Florida remains flat, only this time I have my own transportation (fortunate, as otherwise I would go stir-crazy). 'twould be impolitic not to visit the Osprey Bay people and my father in all of this, so I made plans to do both.
And bought tickets.
It was $100 cheaper to fly out of San Jose (SJC), which caused me to have a WTF moment: it's an hour's drive there from Oakland.
countgeiger-the-Husband would have fetched me, but he had work. DLP would have reciprocated for all my trips to get her, but she won't go to SJC on a dare. And, thanks to your fiends and mine at the TSA and their theft of basic civil liberties in the name of increased security, I had to be there at ten in the morning for a noon flight. Fuckers.
[rant about the TSA elided for your safety]
So I asked
emberleo if she could take me to her place from the wedding and drop me off at the airport the net day, and she kindly consented. I flew out Sunday morning, about sixteen hours after The Wedding of the Year pentaclemoon, in whose reception I played some small part and wouldn't've missed for anything short of the funeral. My flight back would be a similar interval before Greyhaven's Fall Bardic, although I'd be missing a seidh session and a Hrafnar meeting in the middle. But it had to be this week; any later and I wouldn't have my mother to be a buffer between me and the stepgrandfather and uncle, and it'd let me see her, too! Besides, I wasn't thrilled about going to Hrafnar because of all the argument over the proposed topic, and it's not like I hadn't had enough oracular ritual attendance points stocked up this summer, including a goodly chunk of chair time.
I changed planes in Houston. Thankfully, certain former Troth members did not dispatch a party past the Dread Portals of Security to invite me forcibly onto their Bog List. ;)
Demarus, Florida Steward and all-round Good Egg, met me in Tampa with his wife Tracy. We shot the breeze and he outlined his plans for Florida domination while we waited for my luggage and the rental car. Trothies here, take heed: Demarus is the most aggressive Troth-promoter I've yet seen, up to and including lending people that $20 if they don't have it on 'em.
The TSA opened my luggage. I hope they amused themselves with the contents. It's the ideas that are most dangerous, and those I need no suitcase to pack...
The rental car acquisition from Alamo went smoothly, and I recommend them: they'll take debit cards (Hertz and Avis do not), will hold no more than the expected amount of the contract (many companies do), but do want proof of your impending departure before they'll let that slide (e.g. a return ticket).
I had reserved an Economy-class car, very teeny. They suggested an upgrade for an extra $40 (at some discount, too) over the course of the retnal.
I considered my pocketbook.
I considered that it's a two-hour drive from Tampa to Gainesville, and three hours from Gainesville to Sarasota.
I called Mike, he agreed, and I got it. The counter lady said I could pick any car on the lot that was in my class.
Demarus and I walked out of the rental place, and as the doors opened, I said aloud, "I would like a blue car, and preferably of American make."
Wouldn't you know? The only blue car on the lot was, in fact, in my price class, and was a Saturn Ion.
Demarus quipped, "Yeah, someone's got their I on you all right."
Subtle as a brick, sometimes, these Powers that Be. It runs great, gets good mileage (30 mpg fwy, and I'm a leadfoot), and only had 1700 miles on it when I got in...
Spent Sunday night on Demarus's most excellent guest bed after eating his chili. Fascinating locally-produced orange-colored hot sauce to spice it with, too. He and/or Tracy left an cheese omelette for me in the oven the next morning, too, with crisp bacon and toast!
I'm very, very glad I brought a host-gift of some jewelry for Tracy, or I'd've felt terribly guilty.
Drove uneventfully to Gainesville.
I spent the next evening, night, and morning at my father's house. He's still got religion, although he didn't ask any heavy-duty questions until I was packing up to go, which enabled me to dodge neatly. I've been dreading faith-based questions out of them for over a decade, half-afraid that if I told them, I'd be rewarded with a deprogrammers' trip for my trouble, and that when I would be allowed to return, it'd be because I loved Jesus again.
In the meantime, in a move that will surprise no-one, I wasn't even there an hour before I was making their network go. It now runs beautiful broadband -- with full wireless, naturally. Damn, I'm Good.
I did come out, very slightly, to my youngest brother. He didn't freak out or spread around the news that I was bisexual, so this shouldn't hurt too badly. That night's revelation: Lorrie is pagan and has been for a decade. Small steps...
Then I was up Way Too Damn late reading Wolves of the Calla. Warning: the interworld bleed Steve-O has had for several books is going into an all-out hemorrhage here. This is a cuppa tea that I rather enjoy, so I don't mind, but if that's not your bag, beware.
Of course, true Tower junkies won't let that stop them...
Had a chat with Dad the next morning, where we had a couple attempts at faith-based debate (once I translated myself into camouflaging Baptist-appropriate jargon, I was fairly-well compatible). He tried to ask, "So, have you and Michael (i.e., my husband) come back to your roots and started exploring Christianity?"
There is just no good time to ask that question, is there? Too early, and I would have spooked and fled. now... and I had to leave. I ducked out.
I pointed out to Mikey that the game'd be up right quick if anyone did a web search on me; we'll see what comes of that, if anything. It'd turn up... a lot of very scary things, from their perspective.
So, with all that, I didn't get into Sarasota where my grandmother's locked up until 6PM. Unfortunately, I'd thought I'd get in there rather much earlier, so got yelled at for it between delighted shouts at the mere fact of my arrival. My grandmother is doing fairly well, considering: she's walking without a walker for short distances, and the therapists are willing to sign off on her next week. Unfortunately, that's after Mom and I have both gone home, but I feel good about that. It will be good to have a memory of her, still vital and sharp-tongued, in case I don't make it back before the last.
And so, here I am. In Florida again. It keeps trying to suck me in, and I keep dancing free.
No, Florida isn't Mars, but by now I know I've a right to be leery...
I'll be coming home on Friday, to SJC, around 7:30PM. Yay!
-- Lorrie
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 02:29 pm (UTC)Kidding, kidding.
I tend to just dodge the religion conversation around my heavily Catholic family, too, for obvious reasons. My Mom knows, although it's not something she understands. She has told me, though, that she supports me as long as this makes me happy. This is good - I don't like to lie to Mom.
Regarding CHF...well...it really depends on your grandmother's overall health. CHF will probably be her cause of death, eventually. But if she's responsive to treatment and does well, she could kick around several years. If she's already ill and weak...less time. Both my Grandfather Lowery and Grandma Eileen (Poppa's second wife, you met her methinks) dies of complications from CHF.
I think that what you've done is good. You've got good, solid memories of her now. It will make things easier for you...after.
*huggles*
And, what, you come to the East Coast, you can't drive 24 hours to see me?!?!?! (hee hee hee hee hee - sorry had to say it!)
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 04:04 pm (UTC)Kidding, kidding.
Ah, but she gets to see -me-, too, tomorrow evening. And that's what -really- counts. ::grins cheekily::
Very much kidding and definitely so.
Though I'm not thrilled that you've got to be here for this reason, I am glad I get to see you, Lorrie, and that things seem to be going reasonably well.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 08:19 pm (UTC)I'll be happy to meet you, too -- and I have some wooden bits for yoooooou!
Things are going overall well. My next entry was just a nice place to keep the snark instead of spewing most ungraciously.
-- Lorrie
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 08:11 pm (UTC)Everyone I've talked to about congestive heart failure agrees that it's something that you just keep on chugging along with for awhile. This includes Marion Zimmer Bradley, for what little that's worth.
And *swat* about "not driving 24 hours." I do believe the in-family upper bound on that is 4. 8-P At least, my family. Dunno about random cloning vats.
-- Lorrie
no subject
Date: 2003-11-13 04:40 am (UTC)Still, it was my best Jewish Mother impersonation. Did it work?
no subject
Date: 2003-11-15 09:51 am (UTC)If it'd worked, I'd've turned up on your doorstep! *smooch*
-- Lorrie
no subject
Date: 2003-11-15 04:39 pm (UTC)For THAT I'd have used my EeeeeEEevil seidhkona powers!
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 02:35 pm (UTC)My grandma plans to live to 100, and my mom figures she will, although my mom will snatch herself bald in the process... ;)
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 06:27 pm (UTC)Go,
M
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 08:22 pm (UTC)-- Lorrie
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 08:21 pm (UTC)Kudos on yer grandmother...
-- Lorrie
congratulations....
Date: 2003-11-12 08:32 pm (UTC)come home safe and soon.
Re: congratulations....
Date: 2003-11-15 09:52 am (UTC)-- Lorrie
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 10:42 pm (UTC)"Yeah... we got lost in a bad part of town, an apostle knocked us down and stole our karma, and we had to walk back to sanity."
no subject
Date: 2003-11-15 09:52 am (UTC)-- Lorrie
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 11:21 pm (UTC)I changed planes in Houston. Thankfully, certain former Troth members did not dispatch a party past the Dread Portals of Security to invite me forcibly onto their Bog List. ;)
Oh, I'd heard a rumour that these folks had left the Troth, but it was from a most unreliable source. It's nice to have confirmation, and even nicer that you escaped their hospitality. And I've even got $20.... *grin*
no subject
Date: 2003-11-15 09:54 am (UTC)And yeah, Bjorn Patsson and Dave "Daeg" Brooks have left the Troth, and their kindred with them. The Culvers are still in the Troth, but Rich is only there because it's a family membership he shares with his wife Jennifer. Rich has left the members' list, for which the moderators (probably not excepting his wife) breathe a sigh of relief.
And we'll take yer twenty. ;)
-- Lorrie
no subject
Date: 2003-11-15 05:56 pm (UTC)YAY! *happydance* Moderators and former and future members are relieved.
Will ya take my twnety with Paypal? (Haven't looked at the site in a while.)
no subject
Date: 2003-11-22 05:14 pm (UTC)-- Lorrie