Crazy Carol's back.

After arriving and leaving with my father in February for the play, Carol's back in March.

Let me explain why.

Initially, when I thought I was buying a house back in January, we figured I'd move in in February, and she could drive down in March over her spring break with some furniture. However, as you well know, the last house was a no-go, so she bought a cheap ticket instead and flew down just for vacation.

Of course, one week to the day before she arrived, I found a house (and it looks like I might actually get it!), and that made Crazy cranky, "I should have waited!" But it's all good in the hood. I mean, who needs furniture anyway?

But I do need clothes! Well, need is a relative term. But Crazy and I went shopping anyway. New "work" clothes for Ann Catherine. Remember buying school clothes? Annoying dresses, uncomfortable shoes? Same principle except now I wear skirts and heels. But I admit, I did get the cutest pair of navy pinstripe long shorts that will look fabulous with a white shirt, hot pink vest and heels. I digress.

And as we always do manage to go shopping when Crazy's in town, we also managed to break the car. That's right. We're three for four folks, and it's debatable whether you can even count the last time she was here cause dad was with her. It may have thrown off her game.

As usually, the car broke down. Last time it was on the highway, and my students had to drive my mom from Waco to Austin to catch her plane while I waited in Waco for the car to be fixed. This time it just wouldn't start. Nothing. No turn over. No sad vroom, vroom, splatter, hush. Just plain silence. Well, except for the raidio which turned on just fine.

So we jumped the car. Nothing. Cleaned the battery. Nothing. Finally, we called Todd, the community mechanic. And after about three seconds with a hammer underneith the car, it started.

He hit my car with a hammer and it started.

I suppose all you car junkies know where this is going, but 500 dollars later, I have a new starter and windows that will roll up and down and up and down as much as you like (those have been broken for 9 months or so).

Needless to say, I'm pleased. Poor, but pleased. And mom is, well, crazy. And a good support system. We celebrated by going to the Alamo Drafthouse to watch Brokeback Mountain.

This morning we arose to journey with Michelle to the Natural Gardner with the intention to find a plant and statue to put over Radley's grave. That started off okay, but turned too sad for me. I cried. Michelle hugged me. Mom cried and picked out a nice plant with orange blooms. In my personal opinion, denial is always a less teary option. This afternoon, Michelle is taking mom to Wimberly to sightsee while I'm at work. This is me at work. I'm working. Not really, I'm not there yet. I just had lunch. But in principle, I'm at work.

So Crazy's well taken care of, and I'm well taken care of and Emily just had knee surgery and is well taken care of by grandma. But that's another saga and I've not the energy to tell it.

Peace.