Sally's woes

Last night I dreamed about my younger sister Sally. In my dream, she was showing me a newspaper clipping that had a picture of her. In that picture she was wearing a suicide-bomber vest with lots of sticks of dynamite and hand grenades and such. "That was me at one of my lowest points," she told me in the dream.

So it came as no surprise for the phone to ring this morning. It was Sally, asking me to call her back since she had very little time left on her calling card. She began weeping and telling me about the financial and health issues they were dealing with. My niece Amber has continued to have problems with incontinence ever since her West Nile virus scare, and the cost of the adult diapers is exorbitant. So to make a long story short (as if I ever!), we took advantage of a money transfer service that Walmart offers to have some money sent to Sally. I told her to get diapers and yogurt, since apparently Amber would benefit from some Activia, also. Then I ordered a case of adult diapers to be sent to Amber. So that's $300 spent very, very quickly, but I don't regret it. I only regret that Sally's life has been so incredibly horrible. To add to her woes, her husband Arthur is being a horse's ass and is yelling and slamming doors and taking out his financial worries on Sally and Amber. So very mature of him. Not to mention Christian. (He's the first to tell people about his strong faith. Sounds to me like it could be a tad bit stronger.)

We worked on the spare bedroom last night and got a lot of organizing done. I should have people visit more often. Certainly, I should have my brother visit more often than once every sixteen years.

I'm eager for the bed stuff to arrive so I can "see" the room in its finished state. (I've pictured it mentally a hundred times.)

Lately I've been fussing a bit about my poor spouse, but to his credit, he did not play golf today, and he rushed to Walmart to have the money sent to Sally. He's a good person, and I should be grateful each and every day for his goodness. (But it still irritates me for him to throw away perfectly good stuff.)