A Matter of Trust

This was my weekend to go to Liberty and be the good grandson.  And it was, mostly, a good time.  My grandmother is noticeably deteriorating, and while it is painful to see that, it's not surprising.  I have done my grieving.

The greater problem, actually, is the stresses this is causing, indirectly, in my family.  Most immediately, my dad seems to be losing his mind.  He's decided that it'd be a really keen idea to buy up some cattle.  Now, remember that my dad's a truck driver, home maybe 2, 2-1/2 days a week, and a month away from his 60th birthday.  And, since Mom wants nothing to do with a bunch of damn cows, then he's decided to be an ass and ignore all the problems with their house.  Many of which lie on his shoulders, because Dad's not really one to do a project to completion when he can half-ass it instead.

Swear to God, there are times when I really think what I need to do is call up my cousins in New Mexico and let 'em know that, yeah, I'll take that job we talked about back in April.

I've been half out of my head all weekend, anyway.  Someone's been in there, and it's pissing me off.

Lullabye

There's nothing like a conversation with someone wonderful to help drive the unwanted resurgent traces of someone terrible out of your mind.