T.O. ain't got nothin' on this

As some of you may know, I am currently staying with my Grandma. Over the years, Grandma and I have become default roommates when together due to a constellation of factors-my chronic singleness, her chronic singleness, our unusual ability to get along under strange circumstances and fondness for adventure. Probably the groundwork was laid early as Grandma took me on my first transatlantic trip when I was ten.

Since that time, we have had the fortune and wisdom to take special trips together-a road trip from Tennessee to California with bonus visits to the Grand Canyon and through Death Valley, a wonderfully discomfitting and magical adventure in Belize in 2003, a less exotic but delightful trip to St. Paul last year for my first round of specialty boards and a planned trip for May for the second part of my specialty boards. For interested parties, I can provide excellent anecdotes [and potential blackmail] about Mickey from each outing. In addition, we always bunk together on the Florida trips and pretty much anywhere else we go as a family. The long and the short of the matter is that we get on well and have few personal space issues. Now you know where Mom got it.

Those who have been to Mickey's place know that her couch is a mediocre and unforgiving futon. Fine for sitting but not so hot for sleeping. Anyone who has ever been within earshot of Mickey knows she is bossy and likes to get her own way-something else maternally inherited. So when I say we've been bunking together, I mean it.

Now, I am sure you are just dying to know why I have chosen to share this very odd and off topic tidbit. Well, with the new move to Stallworth and the recent dirth of timely anecdotes, I figured I owed you one.

SO

As you can easily discern from the recent posts about the Round Wing setup, I haven't had much sleep lately and have been pretty concerned about Mom's self-safety and dysphoria. Monday night it seems I gave Grandma quite a jolt when she got up in the night. Confused about where I was and who she was, I apparently grabbed her and tried to knock her back down onto the bed.

So Tuesday morning, Grandma asks me whether I am sleeping okay. Well enough, I figure, having forgotten I almost tackled her in the middle of the night.

oops. hee hee. ahem.

Boy was I embarassed.

But then I assured Grandma that I was indeed sleeping well enough. Given how little I am normally around other people outside work and how many places I have been recently (none my own bed or home), I just got a little disoriented. No biggie. Grandma gives me a skeptical look but lets it drop.

Wednesday, as you will all recall, was a scattered stress-filled day as we worked to successfully get Mom transferred back to Stallworth. That night I am sleeping and suddenly someone is getting out of bed. But I remembered having had the conversation with Grandma and did not wish to make the same mistake. I try to remember where I am supposed to be sleeping, where Mom is supposed to be (part of my confusion stemmed from a nurse asking if I would be staying at Stallworth the first night with Mom), squint (terrible vision I've got) and simply am not sure who it is or where I am. So, figuring the potential price would be very high if I screwed up and let Mom fall, I grabbed and yanked.

A startled querulous yelp.

Grandma again. Gonna have some explaining to do in the morning. But boy does the room have similarities in layout and level of clutter.

Hey, its not my fault that Grandma keeps sneakin' off to meet strange men...

-j.c.