We’re sleeping in the driveway at my sister’s house. That is all to report. Well that’s not really all to report, but I’d like to get out of town before I start railing on my sis for the disheveled state of her home. We had one rule between us, that was a joke, but not really…. just ask yourself, “Does the health department need to be called?” If the answer was yes, then clean it up.

We found out while cleaning out the spare room *trying not to rail…. really, really trying not to rail* that was filled with boxes of various crap, that my sister has the same “pen disease” as my mom. Although, my sister has the ability to part with the pens. My mother does not. While my sister was trashing the handfuls of pens and broken pencils that we found, my mother was becoming agitated and looking for a plastic bag for them so she could take them to the church and the missionaries could send them to, I think she said Botswana. She really was having a breakdown about it, so I grabbed a small handful out of the garbage, showed them to her and said, “here, I’ll just put these in your purse.” Enabling? Maybe. But at the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. The woman was distraught.

My sister is on bed rest because of complications from her pregnancy. She’s due in January and she might have to be there until then. She’s been having contractions on a regular basis. This I am sure is one of the reasons that Kimba will pull out for the state of the house. But she forgets, I’ve known her for a while. I remember the state of her bedroom while we were kids, and not much has changed. It pains my mother to no end. Which is funny. I pulled out the “glass house analogy” today, which surprisingly met with no response. It only bother’s me a little once in a while. I figured since we (okay, Andy and my brother-in-law) were here fixing the gas tank problem in the RV I could at least clean out that one room so the baby has a place to be.

Soon we will be free of the midwest and heading twards sunnier skies.