Of course, I’m not a Noble County girl; I’m a LaGrange County girl. Now, if I were in Europe and meant someone else from Indiana, I would say we were from the same place. But, here, when I’m in Noble County, I’m only really just living here – I’m not FROM here. I’m from this little bitty village one county north and just northeast of Shipshewana. I’ll have to scan in some old photos – including a tintype or two.

I went to the nursing home this morning, but I wanted to take something for the door to replace the wreath I had made for Christmas. I had considered making a  winter/springtime wreath, but, well, sometimes you are just wreathed out. So I got – ready for this –  nicely crafted sunflowers for the door. They were left over from the fall, but there was a warmth and the yellow was the promise of sun.

I went in but Emory’s bed was empty and his wheelchair was beside it. Kathryn lay dozing on her own bed.  I always awaken her when I go – she says she has plenty of time to sleep and rest there. Her face was strained and when I asked she said Emory was in the hospital in intensive care. He’s 95  . . . and a half, as we used to say as kids. He’d gotten very sick while his daughter and her husband were there visiting yesterday afternoon and the paramedics took him to the hospital, with the family following. Kathryn returned at 10:30 pm and the nursing staff gave her something to help her sleep.

He was resting better this morning and I stayed with Kathryn through lunch and until she started snoring – she won’t mind me saying that – afterward. Their son was coming later in the afternoon to take her over to the hospital.

So now we wait.

Emory, sunflowers are waiting for you.

UPDATE: Emory is out of ICU and in a regular room

This was taken with a little toy Der Bingle sent to us.

It is a picture of another nose – Little Jake’s nose up real close. Nice weave, dontcha think?

Veedersburg. I can’t remember not knowing that name. It’s in Fountain County. My father grew up in Fountain County and he is buried there. Every year my mother and I go down on Memorial Day to personally put flowers on his grave. When we are there, we usually eat lunch with my cousins – Ann, Glenda and Susie – my Aunt Mary’s daughters. My father and Mary were Grismores – Grismores from Kingman; and, actually, they were Drakes too – that was my grandmother’s maiden name. I can remember hearing people talk about children in families and categorize them as to which side they took after. I think Daddy and Aunt Mary were Drakes. But that is neither here nor there.

Last May Glenda directed us to The Bus Stop – a little restaurant in Veedersburg which is a little northwest of Kingman. Today, when I was looking for a pen, I happened upon one I must have picked up there. It says:

Maybe we’ll stop there this year, but you never know about these little places – especially in these economic times. Are you still there, Bus Stop? Well, Glenda will know . . . or maybe she’ll have another place to point out.

Well, despite the fact we have many more channels now, including the Black & White heaven of Turner Classic Movies, I spied a Robert DeNiro/Al Pacino movie as a new release at Redbox. I drove out to Wal-Mart and Alison ran into get it. As she left the car, she mentioned she would check for sales in the Christmas area.

She came out – some time later, which is why I always have Sudokus in the car – with bargains. Lights that sold for $10 were going for a buck. They have 16 functions, one of which is “the wave”. It gets better: For 25¢, she purchased tins for next year.

She showed me this one below and I said it looked as if it came out of a bawdy house. She did not think it funny – Ready?

Okay, I am going to post the picture.

Right now.

You are entering a cringe zone.

Click to see the glitter.

Okay, Summer and Sydney and I are in the car on the way to the middle school, running late because Summer does not want to get up and puts it off to the last moment and is often not a pleasant person to be around at that time of a weekday morning. Come to think of it, Summer is often not . . .  Well, never mind for now.

Anyway, the subject comes up of people who have technically drowned and been revived and we talk about the possible outcomes of such events from vegetative state to normalcy. As we approached the school, I mentioned off hand that of course she had been drownded and after 24 hours revived. She wanted to know if that is why her stomach hurt and I said, probably because a little tiny nurse sat on her stomach and peered up through her nose to see what was going on in her brain. Her name was Agnes; she had red hair and a funny heeheeheeehee little laugh. It was at that point that we reached the entrance and Summer got out.

Then Sydney and I went on to the fairgrounds where he got out to run around and I sat in the warm car thinking of how outcomes can be so different – like grandchildren. You see, you know your kid has half your DNA and half your spouse’s.  Usually spouses kind of know each other and the DNA effects are not unexpected.

But, now grandkids can be as closely related biologically as your own children or not related at all. It is possible for your child to contribute all of the DNA he/she has inherited from you . . . or not one chromosome. This is fascinating.

Then there is the matter of your child’s spouse’s DNA in the kid; where the heck did this stuff come from. Who ARE these people?

But, back to Summer. She’s a girl and therefore has two X chromosomes. Now the only way that could be is if my son gave her the one X he had which came from me. So what if 22 other AJ chromosomes got together and fought off the Der Bingle chromosomes ? The Summer would be half AJ. No, I don’t think so.

I do think I remember, though, a little tiny nurse named Gretel sitting on my chest and sticking alien implants up my nose and into my brain. But maybe it was a dream.