It’s fly away home day and we’re hoping for clear skies and calm employees at Northwest Airlines. Morale has gotten low and everyone is testy. The best NWA story I heard in the last couple weeks was on a return non-stop flight from Jamaica to Detroit where they announced right after take-off that the toilet flushers weren’t working (brace yourselves, real quote here), "but if you really feel you want to flush feces, bottled water is available for 2.00 per bottle." Anyway, baring any unforeseen events or brassiere failures (recalling the attack of the underwire last month) we’ll be back with Sophie and McCloud and the finches and the whistle pig tonight. Tomorrow or Monday I have- what?- a piece of writing. I think. It’s a few sentences past idea.
(I wrote the above Thursday afternoon to post Saturday. Thursday evening I spoke with stepdad/Bud up at the Bud and Jan Show. It had only been two days since I last spoke with them and both were chipper, celebrating Bud’s birthday with a visit from one of my sisters and her family. Thursday evening Bud reported that he thought mama was sick, maybe just the flu…I called back Friday morning and no answer set off all the bells and alarms.
I guess at 79 it’s hard to have "just the flu"- Bud called for an ambulance at 5 AM Friday morning and both of them are now in the hospital- my mom in ICU with a hemoglobin of 3 and Bud with pneumonia.The "first responders" out of Eagle River, MI were fast and good but once again I am struck with the the vulnerability of their situation where they choose to live isolated at the ends of the earth, near the edge of Lake Superior, in a small winterized cottage. Family calls; please keep them in your thoughts and prayers.)