Catchy Name Needed

(It's probably bad luck or something to use that icon, but I can't resist.) (Note written much later: I have no idea what icon I was talking about, it's long-gone, apparently. Possibly something about a plane?)

I am still mostly avoiding packing, but somewhere in there I have managed to at least get my clothes packed. And some books and stuff. I still need to make sure I have things like pills and toothpaste and all that.

Rob got up at some ungodly hour this morning and ran 15 miles in the rain. He came home with chafing in, well, some body parts that it would be way TMI to mention. Crazy thing. AND while he was gone Art called. Mom had another seizure last night and is back in the hospital. She's really ok, it turns out - apparently her Dilantin, the anti-seizure medicine, got too low and thus the seizure. Much as I would like to use this as an excuse to stay home, I don't think it's gonna fly. Ohio, here I come.

Not only has my mother been a trooper through this whole mess, y'all, but her significant other deserves some kind of prize. He is 82 years old (luckily a pretty hale 82) and has taken her to the ER twice now, taken amazing care of her, chauffeured her around, and generally been a model unhusband. My sister and I complain about him - her more than me, really, because I'm around him more and I'm used to him - but we would be in deep shit without him. (The reason for the complaints: major case of obsessive-compulsive neatness. My sister and I are both slobs to one degree or another and we make him nuts.)