A New Yorker cartoon pictured two women meeting in the park wearing baby backpacks—except that it was their mothers they were carrying. "Yes, mine is 79," one was saying to the other. "How old is yours?"
So tomorrow I go to the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota to pick up my mother who was medivacked out of Mexico for a back operation on my birthday a few weeks ago. That same day my father went into the hospital for blood clots in his lungs. My father is home now, and my mother would like to go home. (Separately!) But she is sufficiently confused by the painkillers she is on that she can't go back to San Miguel. So I am bringing her back to NYC and we will see what we will see.
In storm news, last I heard Ace and family, without power in Sausalito, had evacuated to a friend's house in San Francisco. J seemed to be holding down the fort with Anna, Duro logs, soup and a still-powered cell phone.
fair warning: on block island or manhattan or in missouri, we can be a little salty
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