We went to visit my mother yesterday and she was okay, just a little off center. She actually recognized the wife, something she hasn't done since the episode that put her in the nursing home. Then she said I could sell my house and move into hers since I'm still off work and am having a bit of a financial struggle. I said everything is okay and I don't need to move back to the family home.

Today, my son went up to visit and take the items on her shopping list. She thought he was me. He said the whole time he was there she kept asking what is N__ doing and it's a shame he won't come up and visit. This is all very hard on him as he's been living with her for about six years and has seen her steady down hill slide.

I should be taking notes so I can write funny stories about her happy days of dementia, but, you know, seeing it happen to a loved one isn't the same as hearing about someone else's poor dear slowly going bonkers.

I finished the story I'll be submitting for the Spring Anthology. It's not as depressing as I usually write. You could almost say it's bunnies and duckies frolicking in a spring meadow. Maybe even a Karo syrup kind of story.

And, I'm formulating Chapter 12 of The Pastel Cowboy. I'm actually able to foresee where that chapter will go, which is really amazing considering I haven't gone near it for a month. My other series, Flight to Syracuse, is still languishing in some dark netherworld of my mind. I know better than try to force it.

I don't have to have surgery on my wrist, but have to go to P.T. for a month before being able to go back to work. It was a definite sprain. Actually, the report stated it as SPRAINED WRIST. Yeah, all caps so it would stand out. The report also said there was a 3 cm tear in something with a totally incomprehensible name, but the surgeon said MRIs pick up everything and surgery wouldn't fix my problem. Peachy!

Anyway, he was going to send me back to work, but work isn't local, so I have to stay home for another month.

Sometimes, I look forward to that happy time in my life when all this will be a bad memory. A time when going to the toilet won't mean a run down the hall, but will be a broad smile as I drench my diaper. No, maybe that isn't a good thought.