I've been absent lately, kinda. So the day of my last post we found out my MIL had a bit of an accident. She was out walking the dog, was pulled off balance by the pup and bounced her head off the asphalt. She just got out of the hospital yesterday. Pretty nasty but I won't go into details right now. My love went out there (about 400 miles away) on Saturday, so I've been alone since then. After we found out, I called my own mother and asked her when all the many bad things happening lately would end. Her answer was "when we die, honey." Not exactly the comfort I was looking for. It really sucks being a grown up.
So here I am alone in my creepy house. The house itself isn't creepy, it just becomes so alone in the dark. I can thank my older brother for my fear of the dark. I'm 29 and sometimes I will have full out panic attacks walking down a dark hall. I can't sleep with the closet door open either (plus I put my love between me and it). I think the closet thing is due to seeing Poltergeist as a kid. I know a bunch of people my age with the same problem.
I have no clue why I am writing all this. I'm tired, I'm lonely, I'm frustrated that I can't be of any help from this distance. I haven't knit much the last few days. It is so cold and my hands don't do so well in the cold. Sunday I did paint my minatures some.
I better go. Maybe tomorrow the brain and fingers will collaborate enough to write something worth reading.