May 14 07

May 14, 2007

Ahhh…peaceful, relaxing Monday, when Robert goes golfing and I get to hide in the trailer away from everyone and do whatever I please. Wait! Who told Cibecue that I’m home on Mondays? Arghh…my peaceful day disintegrated quickly.

Robert left at 8:45. It was a beautiful day and he said he had the best score he’s had golfing here so far, and he’s had some pretty good scores already. He got his hair cut, then came home and cut weeds around the trailer and is now fully concentrating on the Suns game, so I can say anything I want about him on the Blog tonight.

When Robert left this morning I started a batch of banana bread then talked to Veda for a while. Then I decided to hurry and get in the shower before finishing the bread. I left the front door open, but the screen locked, as it was already getting warm. As I stepped out of the shower, I heard a little voice calling, “Sister Charlton! Open up! Let us in!”

I called out from the bathroom, where I stood with only a towel wrapped around me, and asked, “Who’s there?’ To which a very helpful little voice replied, “It’s me.” Feeling at the height of my intellectual capabilities, I then called, “Who’s me?” and the voice answered, “You know. Me. Ariel. And my mom.”

So I told them to wait and quickly threw on some clothes. Maxine and Ariel stayed and looked at photo albums and visited for about an hour. Just as they left, the Schwan’s guy came and then Shawn called and we talked for a while. Finally I got the washing going, fixed myself some lunch, got my scrapbook stuff out and started “Lake House”. Just as I sat down at my little scrapbooking table the phone rang again.

This time it was Roma. She said yesterday she was going to come over last night, but didn’t. So her first words on the phone were, “I didn’t make it over last night” and my first thought was, “Who the heck is this?” When she started asking me about her English Lit assignment for a college class I figured it out. She wanted to know if I had ever heard a poem that said something about a yellow room with two paths someone is walking down. “Are you talking about Robert Frost’s poem about two paths that diverged in a yellow wood?” She was very excited that I actually knew this poem and said she was supposed to write a paper about it and had no clue what it was talking about.

So she came over to discuss poetry. Then she hands me her lit book opened to Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie and asks if I’ve ever read that. Yes, I have, but anything by Tennessee Williams I try to store in inaccessible portions of my brain, so there was no hope I could help her. However, I didn’t done get no college edjecashun for nuttin’. I can find cheat sheets. I might not have stooped to this level if her paper wasn’t due in 90 minutes and she hadn’t even read the play yet. So we found a summary of the play and a place that had significant quotes and explanations of the quotes. That’s impressive. Anyone who actually understands Tennessee Williams must be a great scholar. And Roma left happy.

Now for my scrapbooking…no, not yet. Bettina Begay called and reminded us that Robert is scheduled for staff training Friday morning. And the doctor’s office in Tucson called to confirm his appointment on Wednesday. And Alma called and wanted a ride, but couldn’t help her obviously until Robert got home. And Sharon called from San Francisco and said she and Ray are back in the states and would be home tonight.

Finally, I actually watched all of Lake House and got about 5 pages done in my scrapbook. About the time Robert came home Shawna Henry came. We spent about an hour planning Relief Society activities and talking and when she left I gave up, put my scrapbook stuff away, and fixed dinner.

Yesterday when we wrote about Saturday and Sunday we forgot to say that we visited with Myrna Saturday afternoon. She’s pretty sad but trying to cope. She said she actually had preclampsyia when they flew her to Phoenix. Myrna’s sister-in-law is Nada, the post office lady. Tonight I learned that Mike, Myrna’s brother and Nada’s husband, is Shawna’s father. Someday I’m going to write a Soap Opera called Oh, Cibecue. Anyway, several weeks ago Myrna told us that Nada is also pregnant, and since Nada is older than Myrna (Nada’s about 45), they were worried that her baby would also have problems. But she assured Myrna that she’d had all the tests and the baby was fine. Well, last week Nada said the baby isn’t fine…that it has a hole in its heart and the spine isn’t closed. Myrna was really sad about that. Nada’s son also committed suicide shortly after Myrna’s last spring. So this poor family is obviously asking why are all these bad things happening to them.

Tonight Shawna said that Myrna is really struggling. She’s feeling angry about all these tragedies and wondering why God would do this to them. She came to church yesterday and told Shawna she went because she doesn’t want to stay bitter and depressed. Robert says he’s going to talk to her and see if he can set up a weekly counseling session.