This is not a sequel. There has never been anything like it!

Jeff called from the San Francisco waterside where he was strolling and watching the sun rise. I could recall what he was saying from one sentence to the next...water calm with a few sailboats, water cerulean, sun red gold and the GG Bridge glowing. Blah, blah, blah. Wish I was there! or, preferably, Jeff would shut up about how fabulous Frisco is.

Cerulean?

Some conversations are best forgotten!

The point? This state of relative clarity is a vast improvement over where I was just 24 hours ago. Then I would have gotten off the phone with Jeff in 2 - 3 minutes (instead of our typical 4 -5 mins) because I would have not been able to figure out what the Hell he was talking about. Given recent events I now suspect my problem was OD'ing on pain meds/patches/xanax/whatever and not that I have nasty bits now lodged in my cranium. I suppose my CT scan of the brain Tuesday next will reveal all.

Pod Buie and Randy Jones, my nephews, are here scarfing up all of our soft shelled crabs and boudin (it is the late afternoon now). They just told me "you actually make a little sense now, Judy".

"Why, I never!". I vigorously ejaculated in response. Let me tell you, I was shocked nearly beyond recall by their effrontery...

Is it desirable or merely worrisome that these loving lads can actually understand me now? If I could remember the recent past, I probably would find some solace in having been the reincarnation of the Oracle of Delphi* for a time. My "sources" tell me that Ariel, my granddaughter, after having a telephone conversation with me about two days ago likened my responses to this woman's: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwq2xSDBQfw Except much less comprehensible. Loose association was the operative word during that "not remembered by me fur shur" conversation.

Ariel got off the phone and promptly had a hysterical breakdown. "Grandmother is a goneeeeeer!!!" She then est tombée dans les pommes.**

I am not entirely certain the child can be entirely believed. Even as a newborn Ariel had a mischievous, wicked streak that could shine forth at any time. Very random though. Just enough to keep you off balance. Generally she is a BuddhaBabee of Luv...

Ariel Wusthoff: 3 days old

I do recall Ariel, who is to graduate from High School in the not too distant future, has to be adorned with some residue of god since she attends a Catholic School. Our conversation revolved around the labyrinthine minutia of this cross versus that cross. Even at my best this is all mumbo jumbo. Might as well have a shaman telling me about the differences between voodoo curses. A woman who is feeling the wind of the Grim Reaper's scythe on her neck finds it hard to attend to an exposition on the relative merits of crosses. Even when it is her adored Granddaughter.

The Wise Reader will be asking herself, "I wonder just how much of that conversation with Ariel Judy has forgotten. Did it happen at all? Are persons who are under the weather always cranky?"

Sigh.... You are so very right to be curious about these things but I certainly cannot answer the first two questions. The last one is a unequivocal, "YES!"

Message in the bottle: when you are talking to me these days you'd best keep it short and close to home. Mine.

Well, Grandmother aka MizFlounce is back! And now I am the Monarch of Order. Chaos is henceforth banished from my kingdom. All due to the kindness of a stranger.

A delightful RN came by today to help get us sorted out here. Poor creature. I think when she saw how far Paul and I had progressed in achieving a state of maximum entropy*** she was felt inclined to fall back into her car and peel out heading for the hills. But, professionalism held sway and she marched through our portals, ashen faced, into the nursing equivalent of the Heart of Darkness.

Several hours later she shambled out muttering "I have other things I have to do today..." I felt for her but we still got our pound of flesh. She laboriously went through all of our medications. Between Paul and me you would assume the Sorcerer's Apprentice**** had come and forgotten to leave. Bottles, bottles everywhere but not a drop to drink? Well something like that. After our RN slave left I had my four daily meds lined up like compliant soldiers and not a mob of 45 random bottles spilling over the counter onto the floor. Paul likewise.

Pod has a theory that I, when conscious, shoved anything that resembled a pill into my mouth. I don't think it was that much of a Valley of the Dolls***** scene around here but it probably was close. Now life in our Lakeside Shangri-La could be displayed on "Father Knows Best" or "Sesame Street" without fear of censorship.

Happy Days! Here I am right before the nurse left. Paul, Randy, Pod and the put upon RN are in attendance...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kujWSIFoe94

Hope your day has ended as superbly as has mine! I still feel more than a bit funky but in comparison to the last few days of "there but for the grace of god" this is Valhöll******!

Judy (via jeff)

* Oracle of Delphi: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Delphi "Delphi became internationally known for the Oracular powers of Pythia--the priestess who sat on a tripod, inhaled ethylene gasses, and muttered incomprehensible words."

** Tombée dans les pommes: Literally translated as, "falling in the apples," it is a colloquial expression that means passing out, fainting, losing consciousness.

*** Maximum Entropy: "entropy is a measure of disorder, and that nature tends toward maximum entropy for any isolated system"

****Sorcerer's Apprentice: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LD8HDta7Z_4

*****Valley of the Dolls: "A pill to wake up; a pill to go to bed..." http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Beyond_the_Valley_of_the_Dolls

******Valhöll aka Valhalla: Valhalla, Hall of the Slain, in Norse mythology is the hall presided over by Odin. This vast hall has five hundred and forty doors. The rafters are spears, the hall is roofed with shields and breast-plates litter the benches. A wolf guards the western door and an eagle hovers over it. It is here that the Valkyries, Odin's messengers and spirits of war, bring half of the heroes that died on the battle fields (the rest go to Freya's hall Folkvang). These heroes, the Einherjar, are prepared in Valhalla for the oncoming battle of Ragnarok. When the battle commences, eight hundred warriors will march shoulder to shoulder out of each door.
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