…was not easily passed by me.
A few weeks ago my son was awakened by the sound of police declaring that they had a search warrant and the sound of a door being broken down. He was not having a dream. His roommate and a neighbor were downstairs, but instead of answering the door when several marked and unmarked cars pulled up in front of their rented house, approached the door wearing riot gear, and knocking? They sat silently. WTF?
My son got up and unlocked his door to officers, and with his hands already raised he says, "My dog and cat are in here with me."
He cooperated with being handcuffed and taken downstairs to be placed on the sofa beside the other two handcuffed young men (only he was just in a tee shirt and boxers). The front door was standing open and the the section that held the doorknob and locking system were on the floor.
There were about ten officers all together, some plain clothed detectives (and a couple of A.D.A's my son found out after) and they were there because of his roommate.
A roommate who turned out to be a drug dealer. The Big Giant Kid did note that the guy always had pot on him, but for the most part they met in passing. The kid works late in the afternoon to early in the morning, or was usually asleep when he was home.
Once it was decided that the Kid was not a dope dealer, too, he was uncuffed and allowed to put some pants on (the door was standing open and the heat was long gone from the living room). The police, et al, left with the roommate and the neighbor (who had just bought a bunch of pills off the roommate).
The kid nailed the door shut, along with some wood over the hole — and put a sofa in front of it, too. Two weeks later and the landlord had still not repaired or replaced the door so the kid moved out. The roommate was back from being in jail and wearing an ankle monitor.
I felt for the kid. He really liked that house and the fenced in yard for his dog. The thing is the roommate was moving out and to Florida at the end of the month. The kid was gonna keep the house on his own, etc. I felt for the kid. He really liked that house and the fenced in yard for his dog.
I feel better that he's out of that house. I mean what if the roommate owed money to who he got his pot and pills from? What if they came looking for him and the kid was the only one home? Or if the roommate was home, they beat the crap out of him, and then took everything of value in the place — including the kid's?
During all this I hear from my older brother that his mother-in-law has died. She was in her 80's, out walking her dog, and suffered a stroke, dying a week later. Wow. I truly felt for my sister-in-law. She had her mother so much longer than I had mine and probably expected her to live to ninety-something.
Last Saturday I met up with my older brother and we began a drive (in his car) to meet with my younger brother at Dad's house. I had dreaded this trip for the longest time. Nothing has been settled between us and I wasn't looking forward to five hours in a car with him.
I had brought with me one of Dad's drawing tables that my brother was really annoyed that I had. He had it first and never wanted me to take it from him — maybe ten years ago — but he lets me in on all this that last time after our visit to the probate attorney. So he'd been holding this grudge.
Only now he no longer wanted the damn thing. Why he had to carry on like that when he didn't even want it anymore? Hell if I'll ever know. He was probably just wanting to stick more shit to me after that visit with the attorney. Like maybe he thinks I already have stuff he wanted.
But since he no longer wanted the table top it came home with me. I'll either have it made into a project table for me or a coffee table for the kid.
So we're on the road, but have stopped off to get some water, and we get rear ended while waiting for a car across the road from us to take a right.
It was a pretty good jostle, and right away my back was bothering me a bit, but I got out of the car immediately to walk it off. The other driver had just not realized we had stopped again — he was in a hurry to go watch a UofL game.
After everything was over with the police, my brother tells me he doesn't want to carry on any further and so we head back to his house, but not until after we stopped at a Wal-Mart so brother could get some duct tape and seal up the rear end damages.
Did I tell you my brother wears the most awesome hats?
I came in for a bit because he was wanting to show me some pictures he'd made since I'd last seen him (he'd already told me all about his new 38mp Nikon on our drive). I visited with my sister-in-law (after my brothers asks for my keys and apologizes for my having brought the drawing surface, but he's putting back in my car) and SIL tells me how her local humane society was going to name an emergency medicine foundation in honor of her mother. I very nearly cried. It was just so touching. (We had made a donation to the same shelter in memory of her mother.)
When I was going to leave I suddenly realized my blood sugar had dropped. I hadn't noticed it sitting down, but by the time I was going down the front steps to my car I knew I'd be in trouble before I could finish the drive home. I came back in to have some juice, totally embarrassed (because I'd already left, you know) and low blood sugar during the day was not the usual for me.
So I'm sitting there and we're talking about our dogs, and I say something about how I think it is odd that dogs from the greyhound family are so sensitive to the cold, seeing as they were bred in England, etc., and my SIL says that it makes sense to her because English weather is so much like Kentucky's.
And I wanted to say "duh," but then my brother pipes in with how she knows because she lived in England for a while. And in my head I'm still thinking, "Duh," you know — because it gets cold in KY —- which is so much like English weather (Which I also know because I visited England in the very dead of winter so many decades ago and they even had a country wide ice storm that winter!) except it was like words were coming out of their mouths, but they didn't catch what they were both saying.
Suddenly I was exhausted by the whole day of it all. Once home I changed into my pajamas and refused to go or do anything else for the day.
(Gratuitous photo of Sterling and Mini on the dog worn sofa.)
So yesterday morning I wake up late and my husband is in the shower (in preparation for his workday) but then I notice this kitten hanging from the bathroom door:
Except with my sleep-filled-unaided-with-glasses morning eye sight? I swear it was a black kitten and that I saw that tail moving!
(And, thankfully, my back, neck, and shoulders never bothered me any more than usual. My brother did text that he was a bit sore the next couple of days, but I kept my fingers silent regarding myself.