Another blog about nothing

We are alone. Blissfully alone. The house is quiet, except for the jingle of the dog’s collar as he goes from one room to the next, sniffing and checking to see if there may be anything of interest left behind.

Our guests have all gone home.

I enjoyed every minute, I assure you.  It was wonderful to see everyone, especially my daughter. She was the last to arrive and the last to leave. She flew back to Oregon today. I felt as though we didn’t get enough time with her, as we had so much other stuff happening. But it was great to have her here nonetheless.

Next big project-moving my mom here from Virginia at the end of October. This will not be easy. It will not be pleasant. It must be done. Once it is done, things will get better. I think she will enjoy being here, and the change in my life with having her here will be manageable. I may scream, cry or tear out hair at various intervals, but my husband is used to it. I do that about my job pretty regularly already.

Over the course of the week, we went to the movies twice. I saw Toy Story 3 twice. It was with two different groups, but I can’t remember the last movie that I saw twice, especially in the theater. The first group included my 14 year old nephew, which gave us adults (my mom, sister and I) a little cover for seeing a “kids’ movie”.

It really isn’t a kids’ movie.

I would say that the minimum age for the movie should be around 9. It had some pretty scary concepts in it for the younger kids. A bad toy-one that looked and acted good, but turns out to be very bad. A very scary scene where the good toys are nearly burned up……it was a very close call. A prison-like atmosphere of a daycare center.  We are dealing with things very near and dear to young children here, their toys, their daycare environment, and life and death of the things closest to them.  I could not imagine my granddaughter seeing it. Nightmares.

But for those for whom it is appropriate, it is a very good movie. The animation of people is still a little less amazing than that of the toys. It is a poignant growing up story, and I got a little choked up.  The little girl at the end of the movie reminded me of my granddaughter-rainboots, tutu and vivid imagination.

I went the second time with my husband, his cousin, and my daughter (age 28)-all adults with no child to cover our going to the kid movie.  We all agreed it was a good movie, but also agreed on the age thing.  The young child seated with his dad in front of us was in dad’s lap after the first 10 minutes of the movie, and was pretty scared.  He looked about 5.

Okay……other stuff.

We made it through the week of guests with only one toilet overflow. My mom, age 80 and not able to get around easily, stays in a bedroom in our basement. It has a bathroom right next to the bedroom. I took her downstairs, carrying her “potty seat” (to extend the height of the stool), and went back up two flights of stairs to go to bed myself.  I was lying in bed, just starting to drift off…..and my phone rings.  11:30 pm. It can’t be good news. You just know that a call at that time of night is not going to be one you want. I answer.  “Hi there!!! ”  I am not sure who it is….I don’t have caller id on this phone. The person seems to think I know who it is. I just mumble a “hi” back.  “I think I have a problem here. The toilet is overflowing and I can’t get it to unplug. The plunger didn’t help”  My mother is calling me on her cell phone from the basement!  My husband had just returned home from a full day of working at his recently deceased aunt’s home. At midnight, we find ourselves in the basement bathroom, soaking up the water on the floor, he is plunging the toilet with an alternate-and better-plunger, and we are listening to my mom in the bedroom explaining how it all happened.  It is a good thing that my husband is a patient man. And handy. We considered our week, and agreed that it could have been worse.

It could have happened at 4 am, and there could have been floaters.

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