Most of the local area was blessed with a day of sunshine, but those of us near the shore of Lake Ontario had a double blessing; sunshine and fog. It rolled in and out all day long, the sun beckoning us outside only to have the fog chase us back in before we ever made it out the door. Actually, Ben and Hannah spent a bit of time outside cutting the grass and that is what really kept us in. I wasn't too sure I wanted to sweep up all the cuttings that I knew would follow upon re-entry. It has been a rather pretty kind of day; mysteriously pretty.
Early this week we had a call from a local hospital looking for someone to give permission for treatment of my brother who was there in the emergency room. I handed the phone to my mother and took it back when she was done. I asked the woman on the other end what was the matter and was told they weren't able to say. "He has a swollen leg," was all she told me. My brother lives in a group home, is basically nonverbal, and severely autistic. It's not like we can ask him, and, of course, that's why they were asking permission to treat him. The next morning someone from the group home called to let us know Tim had cellulitis and would be in the hospital for a few days. This morning I called the hospital to check on his condition. "I can't give you that," said the receptionist on the other end. Huh? I thought that was all they could give... And who is supposed to tell us what is going on when he can't? She decided to connect me to his floor. I left them my number and a nurse called back to tell me he was behaving well, that he's still on IV antibiotics, his leg is still red, and he will probably be there through the weekend. I at least feel better being informed.
The fog is back this evening "thicker than pea soup." I can still see across the road, but Mike's house up on the hill seems to have disappeared. I'm thinking it's best to go grocery shopping tomorrow.
The Barn Collective.
2 hours ago