One hell of a week.

My mother-in-law has been in the hospital since Monday with a bad infection--basically, an untreated ear infection gone septic. She's had it for, oh, I don't know--4 weeks now. Heather told her to get it treated when they met at Mass on Sunday, and Mom agreed--but ended up calling the ambulance because she couldn't walk.

The first kicker--we didn't find out until yesterday. The good news is that she was the one calling to inform us. She seemed better, if weak, yesterday. She was eating and able to hold it down.

The other kicker is that she is going to have to be in for another week to ten days for continued IV antibiotics and physical rehab--she's too weak to walk now. After she is discharged, she will need another 3-5 weeks of IV antibiotic as well.

Prayers and good thoughts welcome--this was a scary one. Kicker 3--yesterday was Heather's birthday. "Happy Freakin' Birthday!" as our good friend Shelly put it.

Finally, you Michiganders may have heard about the plane that went down in Lake Michigan as it was taking a patient to the Mayo Clinic. It took off from my hometown's airport, and our family knew everyone on the plane. I worked for co-pilot Earl Davidson's construction company one summer back in college, and Dr. Hall was the father of one of my friends in high school and my sister-in-law's physician. They were both fine, community-minded men, and my Mom and Dad speak well of the Pavliks and Jerry Freed, the only survivor. It's torn a hole in the heart of my birthplace, so prayers and good thoughts are welcome there, too.

My musical tastes are definitely in transition.

Or perhaps they're just broadening: I recognized pretty much every song played during the parts of the Country Music Awards I saw last night.

And I knew Brooks and Dunn had called it quits a couple months back.

Yippie-ki-yay!

What's more disturbing is that country is pretty much all Heather listens to on "live" radio these days. Had you told me twenty years ago in college she'd be listening to country music, I'd have responded "Steer clear of the brown acid next time."

That's funny--I don't *feel* like Saint Joseph.

In fact, the comparison is pretty much Ludicrous City, next stop.

But that didn't stop our DRE from press-ganging Elizabeth, Heather and me to be the Holy Family in our parish's Nativity Play.

Let's see--I have a beard...and far more importantly, an infant.

Dale III heard about the possibility of being one of the angels and wanted to know if he could be in "the sword fight." It took a second, until I confirmed he was referring to the Archangel Michael expelling Satan from heaven.

I mean, Dude. Wrong scene, wrong book, and waaay too Michael Bay-ish for our restrained suburban congregants.

Ten years, far, far more good than bad.

Thanks, sweetheart, for saying "yes," and then "I do."

Was 1999 all that long ago?

Time to find something "tin" that doesn't suggest "foil" in the same breath.

My much better half...

Has a math games and/or toys bleg.

She also has the ideal suggestion for the next Elmo toy. Photoshops welcome.