Second showing today. You know, there's something very strange about cleaning up the house to sell it; it's rather like dressing your husband up all nice and fancy in the hopes that some other woman will pick him up. Very disconcerting.
No news yet, though. Our realtor said that she'd call the other realtor tomorrow morning. Now, I don't know why, but I somehow got the feeling that she wasn't nearly as optimistic as I'd thought she might be. She seemed to be insinuating that perhaps the other realtor was more interested in the house than the couple was, though I have no idea how she'd know that or why she'd even think it. When the other realtor requested a copy of our inspection report from when we purchased the place, I took it as a good sign; if they used our (rather good) report instead of doing their own, a sale would go much more quickly. Realtor Gail, instead, seemed dubious about the request and though that the eagerness was only due to confusion and overexcitement on their realtor's part.
On the whole, I wish I hadn't talked to Gail tonight; I'd much rather have existed in my happy little optimistic, if naive, bubble.
That wasn't the only phone call I'd rather not have had tonight. Mom called a bit ago, and I answered the phone hastily, thinking it was Gail calling back. "You sound happy," Mom observed. "I'd rather not have to talk to you when you're like this." That was a bit bracing. She continued, "Grandma Armstrong has cancer."
(You can insert your choice of four-letter words here; I did mentally.) What is going on in the world? Why is everybody getting horribly sick? Is it just this cursed year?
Grandma has colon cancer. They're doing a PET scan tomorrow to see how far it's spread. if it hasn't gone far, they'll treat with radiation. Mom didn't know what they'd do if it had advanced. This has been an awful year for Grandma, anyway; she developed macular degeneration earlier (it's actually been around for longer, I think, but has only gotten bad this year), and now she's pretty much completely blind. This is the icing on the cake for her.
Lovely, just lovely. Mom says that Dad, whose mother this is, is holding up well, at least so far. She's going to see what time the scan is tomorrow so that maybe she can go to be with Grandpa then. I can't imagine how he's feeling. I can't imagine having this kind of worry for a spouse.
I'm doing all right, I guess. Grandma's health has always been questionable, so this doesn't strike me with the same kind of shock value that, say, it would have had it been my other, healthy-as-the-proverbial-horse, grandmother. I'm sad, but not really surprised.
Or maybe I'm just numb to all the tragedy right now.
As I mentioned in the weblog, we're spending the first few days of Christmas vacation at the Greenbrier resort, courtesy of Bryan. While we're there, we'll be having family portraits taken, and I needed a nice dress. In my shopping up to now, I'd only been able to find dresses in my size that screamed "Mother of the Bride!" You really do need to be at least thirty-five to successfully pull off that level of matronliness, I think.
Alysia and I went eBaying this afternoon and perused through the dresses at HolyClothing. How did I forget about them? In no time, we found all sorts of lovely things in my size, and I bid on this one. I hope it looks as good in person as it does in the picture. I may need a few more items before all is said and done; the dining room at the Greenbrier is supposedly uber-formal. If I can't find anything locally, I may be back. This eBay business works nicely; the pictures of Sam in the sidebar show the little suit I found for him that way. Now, if only I can find a nice white Oxford shirt in his size.
I'm really looking forward to a few days of luxury. Maybe a nice spa visit while I'm there will help get rid of some of these kinks that have taken up permanent residence in my neck. I've never tried it before (I've still got the gift certificate Eric won me last year, though Alysia and I are looking to use it in the near future), but one never knows.
Everybody here is still hovering on the brink of illness. Run-down, slightly scratchy, but not actively sick. Is it possible to OD on Vitamin C?
one year ago:
I've taken all the Vitamin C I can stomach, and nothing I do makes you happy. Enough is enough.
two years ago:
"Bad mommy!" his whimpers seem to say. "Why won't you make it better?" Oh, baby, I'm trying. I'm trying!
three years ago:
I'm rather inclined to say that the cure was actually the time spent chopping the onion and the massive quantities of garlic.
four years ago:
One of the reasons he was torn was that the materials position paid more, and he wants to be sure that I can stay home with our kids.
In the ears:|
The sounds of silence
On the Bookshelf: