I really don't see that we'll be able to pull it off. Sad. So sad. So, so sad.

I might have the gas funds, but there are still far too many logistics to deal with before setting out on the road. And these services are supposed to be tomorrow. I think Mr. Neighbor's cousin (and anyone she "invites") will be the only one(s) in attendance ( Read more... )

And I've been wide awake for about three hours.

I got all my ribbons pressed. And cards printed for them.

( A whole lot o' bitchin' goin' on. )

I'm in a bit of a pickle. Or a bunch of my food scraps are. I can't get the lid to my compost bin open. It's frozen (very solidly) shut. So I have food scraps lining up here and there and everywhere. My sister, who lives in a mild-weathered Seattle suburb (although they did get dumped on in an unusually large amount this year) suggests that, ( Read more... )

I've never had good luck with friends. Assorted reasons. Mostly my fault, undoubtedly. At some point, I decided I didn't want friends, didn't need friends and kissed the air good-bye to the idea of friendship.

I now realize I could use a friend.

( More incessant rambling. )

I am surprised that I slept like a baby last night. Well, until 4 or 5 a.m. or so. It's strange, I deal with some forms of stress so well and other forms of stress so not well. The stress I am under right now is the not-well sort.

( incessant rambling )

I've often wondered this for my own purposes. But, what, pray tell, do they do with a body if no one can afford to have you buried or even cremated? Cremation (with the remains in little more than a cardboard box) is nearly $1000. Burial, at least $2500, and that doesn't include the plot (but does include a cardboard box). Apparently, Mr. ( Read more... )

Mr. Neighbor is not dealing well at all with his brother's death. (Who would?) But I feel the burden is being put on me to figure out funeral arrangements for a man I do not know and who had no money. I am totally freaking out, and yet I'm more capable at dealing with this than Mr. Neighbor. I do not see how. But Mr. Neighbor has totally shut ( Read more... )

There is a worn and torn brick structure behind (or in front of) our parking lot here on Fruit Street.


( Read more... )

Mr. Neighbor came over to buzz my door at 3:50 a.m. (He can't get through the huge heap of plowed snow in my yard to get to my window, which is where he usually announces his presence.) His brother died at 2 a.m. May he rest in peace. And may Mr. Neighbor find peace. I kept trying to tell him how sorry I was, but he didn't want me to speak. ( Read more... )

Mr. Neighbor's brother lives in south Connecticut. Just hours from us, really. He's dying. Cirrhosis of the liver and pancreatic cancer at its worst. Mr. Neighbor is unable to contain himself. He says little, which is so unlike him. He's incredibly depressed. He was a Vietnam hero, for God's sake! He cries, and I've never known him to cry ( Read more... )