Sunday, July 3rd

Got up at 7:00 to get ready for church. My dad gives me a lift, and he has to be there by 9 to open the door, so...
I like to give myself a couple of hours to get ready in the morning. Shit, shower, shave (well, I am going to church), and 20 minutes to put ointment on the infected areas. Then it's time to get the coffee organized. I can't understand people who get going without coffee, like my dad. And I can't understand people who are ready to go as soon as their feet hit the floor, like my mom (before the accident).
I like to have a bit of music to listen to first thing, but my folks like to have either news or daytime TV screaming at them at the top of their lungs. Way too much, way too early. I set my desktop up in the basement in order to get away from the noise. I now have a Batman-cave.
Sweet.
But I digress.
After breakfast, we're off to church. I took my laptop along so I could check my e-mail and facebook while I waited for the service to begin. I asked my dad what the password to log on to the wireless network was, and he didn't have a clue. He's had a laptop at the church for over a year, and he's never logged on to the internet. My folks are computer-illiterate. I used to ask my mom for help with this and that, but now I do all their 'puter stuff. I have to restrain myself from sighing heavily whenever I hear them wail for assistance.
My dad's brother and his wife showed up for the service, as they were visiting mom later. My aunt sat way too close to me. There's such a thing as "personal space" and she was ignoring it.
I used to play with their kids quite a lot when I was little, but we've all drifted apart, and now I'm lucky if I see them at Christmas.
My aunt has this voice that is difficult to describe. I think of it as unctuous times ten. It takes her hours just to say "How are you?" it comes out so slowly.
My uncle takes a long time to say anything, as well, but that's genetic. I have it, too. My uncle entertains you while you're waiting for his side of the conversation by showing you all of his teeth in a big wide grin. He just grins and grins and then makes a manly type of joke about your muscles or something.
Sigh.
After lunch, we went out for lunch to the local golf course. We sat out on the deck, but a rainsquall forced us back indoors. This year has been the wettest and coldest I've experienced in a long time. One of the local town bigwigs is worried about how high the river is, and what havoc it will wreak on the greens if it breaks its banks.
After lunch, I got my dad to drop me off at home. I didn't want to go to the hospital partly because I would be bored stiff by their conversation and partly because mom and I are having a bit of a disagreement at this point in time. These things happen, and have been occuring more often of late. This time it's because I don't hide how bored I am at their conversation.
My mom hates how quiet my dad and I are. She likes to talk, and I can see that it's sheer torture for her to be alone with us. Eventually it gets to her and she snaps. It's not pretty, and I tend to absent myself rather than actually try to take her on.
My sisters say I should try to distract her or turn it back on her by laughing or something. It's something they can do because they're both extroverts. My brother, as well. But me, I'm quiet. I go quiet and stay quiet. I withdraw into my shell like a turtle.
So me and mom won't be speaking for a while.
I got home and finally did my e-mail and facebook, watched a few movies, had dinner with dad, and watched my Sunday shows, "Treme" and "Top Gear."
I like "Treme" which I think just finished its second series. It's about New Orleans after Katrina. Much of the focus is on the music that the city has to offer, but there's also a lawyer chasing down crooked cops, and a chef who had a restaurant, lost it, and is just getting back on her feet. Anthony Bourdain is credited as one of the scriptwriters, and there are a lot of celebrity chef cameos.
"Top Gear" is just fun to watch. Sure, there's a lot of car talk, but it's done with a lot of British wit. These guys know their cars, and they have a lot of wit, so it works out well.
Tomorrow my mom visits the surgeon to see if she will be allowed to put weight on her broken leg. Not sure if I'll be going along.
We'll see.