Some Days You Get Caught in the Traffic

-- sometimes it lasts for a week!

I had great hopes of getting regular blogging done this past week. There were some things I wanted to think about in my writing. Suddenly, I got caught in the traffic and blogging came to a stand-still.

I have been behind a big truck called "Computer Crash." You know it. The one labeled "Use us and you will lose everything you have stored here."

Just ahead of that was an emergency vehicle which is still flashing its lights: My mother, who is never ill except for an occasional bout of vertigo, has suffered from a earache for more than a week now. Although she drove herself to the hospital when having a heart attack, this time has been different. I have driven her to two doctors to discover that there is no infection -- just a tiny ulcer in the ear passage "which should clear up in two days, but come back next Wednesday." The earache has not cleared up and a sinus infection has joined it, so I am doing odd chores like arranging flowers from natural materials for a program she planned, delivering refreshments for her church group and driving her to appointments.

A tiny, but never-the-less important, part of the traffic this week was a sad one. Beautiful Maggie, the deaf kitty, sped across the street into the wheels of a passing car. We buried her under the hydrangea bush where she liked to sleep.

Finally, in this traffic jam were a family vehicle filled with luggage, food and weekend gear which blocked my way for three days and on Monday a sporty little model named Lucy caught my attention. Oh, what the heck, I probably wouldn't haven't blogged on those days anyway!

So the computer is back up (thanks to Susan) and the traffic has cleared for a bit. I am back at the keyboard and I'll try to get some regular words strung out this week. After today's doctor trip . . . and . . . a training session for next month's election . . . and . . . the big reunion BBQ which has my painting and words on the inside back cover of the souvenir brochure . . . and . . . .