DREAMLAND

The new mattress was delivered yesterday...[sigh]...it's heavenly. We ended up with a Eurotop, which is, I think, almost as cushy as a pillowtop. I can't imagine a softer bed; in fact, I really think that if we'd gotten anything cushier, we'd be sleeping on the Sta-Puf Man.

But underneath the soft, dreamy goodness lies a mattress with enough firmness for hubby, which is a nice compromise if you ask me. Neither of us wanted to get out of bed this morning, and we're looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow.

In other news...

Today Tnk, other sis, and I jumped back into the fray of getting her house put together. This time the work went much more quickly than usual because we had a deadline: my youngest brother, whom I'll call Tree, is going to be attending the police academy starting a week from Monday (different academy than Tnk, btw). As his house is easily 50 miles from the academy, and as Tnk's is only about 5, he asked if he could live at her house during the week for the next few months - starting next weekend. She agreed, but then suddenly realized that her house has no place for him to sleep.

So today we cleared out the room we'd been using as a workroom (formerly Moi's bedroom, y'all...oh, the memories!). We painted all the walls and ceiling, then dragged a bed frame, mattress set, and dresser, from the garage to what has become the new guest room. It looks fabulous in there; much MUCH nicer than when it was my room a hundred years ago. I wish I'd discovered paint as a teenager.

By the way, when I say "we," I mean "other sis and me." Tnk still cannot use her hands for anything significant - having opposable thumbs is, as it turns out, pretty important for most things. When we were putting the bedroom together at the end of the day, I found her in tears trying to do the simple task of putting a fitted sheet on the bed. My heart just bleeds for her. I can't imagine the frustration she must feel on a daily basis.

Today is the two-month anniversary of the accident. Overall, Tnk is doing okay, although admittedly my standards are very low - I'm ecstatic that she's even breathing, much less walking. She is still living with our other sister and has to have help to do most things - wash her hair, cut up her food, dig out her housekeys...you get the gist. She also found out yesterday that her left hand will most likely never bend more than about 80 degrees forward (most people can do much more than that).

Today she loosely tied her shoes for the first time, and she was absolutely beaming when she told me! Can you imagine being 36 years old and having to relearn how to use your hands? It kills me if I think about it too much. I still harbor a ton of anger toward the man who put her in this condition, which is probably normal but still upsetting. So I try to focus on the positive: she's alive, she's breathing, and...she's alive.

I am grateful. I am grateful. I am grateful.

Onward.

Just found out that some of my high school classmates are planning our 20-year reunion. Wait, did I just say 20-year?!? No way are we that old! Well, I don't *feel* that old. Anyway, I'm excited at the prospect of seeing old friends. Maybe I'm weird, but I think it will be fun.

That's about it from here. Bye for now.