One of my cousins got married on Saturday. This was CousinC, the second in a family of five siblings. Their mother was my mother's younger sister. Auntie died way too young, so my mother has been Mom/Grandma for them and theirs for twenty-five years now. All were invited to the wedding, but yours truly here didn't go.
I really did want to go, but the logistics were beyond me. I didn't have the money to travel down there and didn't want to ask anyone to pay my way. That gets old so darned fast. It's not just the plane or train ticket and a hotel room, it's food and snacks and nicer clothes and a gift and incidentals because you forgot to pack your socks (Dad forgot his and my sister-in-law left her outfit hanging on the back of her door). There's just no way to do a trip like that without spending money, and I didn't have it to spend. When the bills are all overdue and you're trying to figure out just how long you have before PG&E turns out the lights and do you have enough for two cartons of milk or just one because you also need eggs and oh crap there're only two pieces of bread left, you just can't take a trip like that, not even for two days. And I get so tired of asking for money, of always being the one who's broke.
So I didn't go. Sounds like I missed a very good time for all.
What a load of self-pitying crap. I'd better go have some chocolate and snap out of it.
A funny thing did happen up here on Saturday. I was in the kitchen when KidThree wheeled in. She said, "Mom, don't look," so of course I turned to sneak a peek. She was in the middle of the room, happily spinning in circles in her newly returned chair, exulting in its wonderfulness. Seeing that was worth being tilted sideways for a moment.
On the plus side, KidTwo finally posted a new entry on her livejournal, all about finally getting to the embassy and having to get a new outfit for that and her first security briefing (thank goodness, it sounds like she listened closely--KidTwo knows from experience that bad things can and do happen to good people). She got asked yet again if she was her father's wife. People have been asking her that since she was thirteen. What is wrong with them? Do they not see that he is thirty years older than she is? Do they really think he is a pedophile? Is it because she looks like my ethnicity instead of his? Can they just not wrap their minds around father-daughter instead of husband-wife? One of these times, she ought to say she is his wife, just to see what fun comes of it, except that I don't think his current wife has a sense of humor. He would think it was funny, but she wouldn't. Tough enough to have such a gorgeous young stepdaughter hanging around without her turning your husband into a bigamist.
KidThree called me yesterday to pick her up early from school; her wheelchair was making funny noises and she was afraid it was going to collapse beneath her. I found what looks to be the problem--two pins that snap into place when the back is straightened up after being folded down--but they don't snap into place easily or automatically the way they should. We're going to have to take it back to ask our wheelchair guys to take a peek at it.
All the older women relatives are thrilled with the verdict. The grandmas and aunties have no mercy for someone involved in putting their baby in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. I always knew women were meaner than men, and this was a good reminder. Anyone out there selecting a jury, watch out for the old ladies--those knitting needles are probably tipped with poison.