Good morning.

Yes, it is only seven minutes after 5 on Friday morning.  Do you ever have one of those days when you wake up at 3 or 4 and for some reason you just can’t fall back to sleep?  Well, today is one of those days for me.  The worst part is that right around 8am, when I need be at work, is when I’ll feel ready to go back to sleep.  Oh well.

Things are well in the Whitman house.  Speaking of wells…

I mentioned the hole in our basement in the previous update. Yes, there is a hole. My dad came up on Tuesday night last week and jack-hammered a hole around the pipes that have been causing the sewage backup problems. So there is a 2 foot deep, 6-8 square foot hole between the drier and the hot water heater.

It was entirely possible that the next update I would give you would be coming from the Hampton Inn in Rutland Town because a vast sinkhole appeared and swallowed up our house (and the three immediate surrounding it), but that is not the case and I write to you from the comfort of my 65° dining room (at 5 in the morning).

So the good news is that the drain people have come and solved the backup problem (at least that is what they claim). [Aside: the drain people are like the pod people, only scarier and dirtier.] Other than the big hole in my basement floor, the inability to use the washer and drier, and three or four days of laundry piled up we’re doing just swell. (In college, it was a badge of honor to go at least seven days without doing your laundry. In fact, the longer the better. That meant that you not only had endurance, but you also had ingenuity in how to make one pair of underwear last multiple days.)

Meredith continues to make small steps forward. Her memory problems are becoming a little more obviously focused in the area of short term memory loss. It is not uncommon for her to ask me the same question a dozen times in the span of an hour before she either remembers the answer or loses interest in the answer. Most other memories are coming back, or are rebuild-able. She and her aide (Shannon) take daily trips to the mall in order for Meredith to propel herself in her wheelchair. It’s good exercise for her and bad for my wallet.

Additionally, Meredith will be moving out of the hospital style bed that she has been in since she moved home and she’ll be moving back to our matrimonial bed. The insurance coverage was expiring because the medical necessity for the bed was diminishing. I succumbed to consumerism and purchased a king-sized bed for the occasion because I want to make sure there is room for both of us to sleep well through the night. When we’ve experimented with sleeping in our current bed, Meredith slept fine. Me…not so much. So, Merry Christmas to us.

The kids are fine. There seem to be an increasing number of times that they play very well together. In fact, it’s very cute. Malcolm runs around dictating the storyline and Maura runs around right behind him shouting, “Okay!” Of course, the times when they don’t play well together are akin to the fiercest battles of modern warfare. Maura has begun to realize that she can strike back. This could get interesting.

I am finishing up my last day of teaching for the year 2008, today. No excitement there.

We still don’t have a Christmas tree. I’m getting close to throwing lights on the fichus tree and calling it a day. Either way, we’re looking forward to Christmas. In the event that I don’t get caught up with a new journal entry, look for the star and have a Merry Christmas.

Marc

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