I am a huge Paul Carrack fan from way back in the day and his music is the kind that gives me the clarity to make sense of what life has handed me. By Ebola and Russian standards, it's been pretty damn good, like the Cleavers only in the country. We were on the fringes of high society separated only by the loss of the family fortune in the 70's. At that time my mother and aunt became my Gaga's caretaker and found her a duplex she could afford on SS only I bet there was some supplemental $ to keep her there. Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jimbo bought the house across the street and made it cute as hell. There was a little pond on the patio and I can see BG and Kristen as two year olds going for a swim. Jim had a way of making everything special, sort of like my mama. I can't count the number of times they moved but the last house he bought was a two story treasure in Newbern that we salvaged and he flipped. That was in his spare time from being a band leader and music instructor.
Sometime in his early fifties Jimbo made a random visit to his GP who did blood work and found his bone enzyme levels to be quite elevated. As it turned out, he had prostate cancer with bone mets. He lived for about four more years thanks to the anti-testosterone drug. Doing fine...changed jobs after many years and was everybody's hero over in Obion County with his creative field shows. Suddenly, the cancer became aggressive and took over his bone marrow requiring frequent blood and platelet transfusions. A negative, if memory serves me correctly. As a healthcare geek I saw it coming for about six months before anybody else had a clue that the end was near. He had violent reactions to the platelet transfusions that kept him from bleeding to death but then he died anyway, at an age younger than I am now. Aunt Granny has never been the same since.
His funeral was a packed out church full of folks including the entire Obion County Central marching band, in uniform. I was seated between his two daughters with whom I had spent my entire childhood being who we were. There was a marching band contest for many years, held in October and his family presented the winning band with a a silver cup. The generation that remembers he and my grandmother for their achievements are slowly becoming elders themselves. I had to run down and medicate Mama last night because she was all anxious about ummm. I don't have a clue except that nothing has changed since she left in an ambulance 9 weeks ago. On a side note, I'm wearing the stole with pockets that Blogfairy sent me last Christmas as well as the black undershirt. It's cold and I reckon it's time but damn I still owe propane guy 200 bucks. There will be much covering of windows on the northwest side, just saying.
My friend TinaBelle never fails to dress up for Halloweenie and today was no exception. She was sporting a hot pink jacket with black poodles and matching pink converse. The patient access department was a whole bunch of dalmatians with one evil lookin' bitch as their leader. The last time I dressed up was as a street reporter headed to the bar and the girls at the chicken store made me come in and pay which was not required at the time.
Just got a request from the grands to run out to Kroger and pick up her nerve pills and I flat refused but offered to share a couple of mine. They are literally wearing me out and it's nobody's fault. With my clusterf**k of a life, I wouldn't count on me much longer if I were them. Boundaries are meant to be set. We've had this big dramafest over the past 24 hours with the county law and a several year old unsolved murder that happened around Halloween. Poor girl's body got thrown in the kudzu and wasn't found for six weeks. According to our weekend forecast, I'd say the local kudzu cover will be gone by Monday.
TGIF and praise sweet baby jeebus. Leave a message at the beep.