Momnesia

8:36 a.m. - Stopped in this morning & set Scott up w/ a CD player full of Queen CDs.

8:48 a.m. - Something u may not know about Scott: he's still mourning Freddie Mercury. At the musical crossroads of life, Scott took the path lined with sequined jumpsuits. It has made all the difference.

8:49 a.m. - Funeral passing on Gordon Hwy. I feel 4 them.

9:21 a.m. - Gah! Dog slobber on my pants! Eh, well. Sweet dog.

2:36 p.m. - This car smells like pickles.

8:00 p.m. - Leaving hosp., see 2 smokers dragging IVs behind them. So sad!

8:15 p.m - It was a good day. Scott was able to attempt to tap out a message on the board @ the hospital. Just the attempt wore him out (he didn't succeed, though he tried) but - again - it was progress.

10:36 p.m. - I'm hungry. Where's the snack fairy when u need her?

9 a.m. - Had 2 go work an appt that couldn't B rescheduled 4 6 mos. Getting ready, waxed eyebrows, & yanked out a couple of eyelashes! SO SMART! Besides that fiasco, it was a Herculean effort 2 get ready. Felt guilty, resentful, childish.

2:30 p.m. - Nurses said Scott was smiling & nodding his head to music this morning. A good sign, but I have 2 remember that he isn't stable enough even for a CT scan yet.
Still, I find myself making plans for when he comes home. about 14 hours ago

6 p.m. - Laughing re: how much has changed while Scott's been ill. He's has a lot to catch up on, not the least of which is our bank going under.

9 p.m. - Scott missed the best/worst Horatio Caine line ever. He would have had a great impression after.

10:15 a.m. - Fast food: not so fast anymore.

10:24 a.m. - Note 2 universe: if u can't PARK an SUV, u shouldn't DRIVE an SUV.

10:27 a.m. - Fast food: not so 'food' anymore.

11:22 a.m. - His nurse said that for all the poo & pee in her job, dinner trays freak her out the most.

11:26 a.m. - She also calls bed pan changes a 'code brown.' I'm totally stealing that.

12:29 p.m. - Scott just told me to get out of his face. It was so awesome. I was asking him a series of questions: are u hot? Cold? Need a nurse? He shook his head no to each. Do u want me to get out of your face? He shook his head yes! That was the best!

1:21 p.m. - Overheard @ the drive-thru: "Can I get a steak 'kwaysuhdilluh?'" Someone lives under a rock!

5:55 p.m. - Rude family returns! They overrun the waiting room, consume all food & beverages like locusts, didn't offer to share their bounty when it arrived, got offended when a relative removed our stash, then made a snide comment about adults who don't know how to share. Is that irony or coincidence?

6:02 p.m. - Got Scott down to 35% oxygen & 1 pressure setting down. He's holding his own for now.

7 p.m. - Spoke w/ Emerson She's @ my parents' until Thurs.: "Hi, Mama! I habbing fun but I miss you!" Waaaah!

9 a.m. - Hit & killed a squirrel on way 2 hospital. Must not read too much into it

10:13 a.m. - NEW INFO: Dr. Cato now thinks it may not be TTP. It might be something called DIC.

10:28 a.m. - Now we're plotting 2 give him a colonoscopy while he's sedated. Mmwahahaha!

11:54 a.m. - A really great meeting w/ Mary Liz. Love her so much right now that I could French kiss her.

12:19 p.m. - Love to share our good fortune w/ others, but it would be nice if others in the waiting room could reciprocate.

1 p.m. - Platelet count 120,000. Up from his low of 15,000. Low end of normal is 140,000.
And though he'd be mortified for u 2 know it, he's producing more & clearer urine than before. That indicates improved kidney function, in case u wonder why I felt like giving TMI.

2:30 p.m. - It's nice to see other patients progressing out of the ICU. Gives the rest of us hope...

6:03 p.m. - Great gods alive! He opened his eyes & responded to me! Wasn't much - expression change in response to a statement - but enough to make me very happy!

8:05 p.m. - Georgia game coming on. Go dawgs! (Sorry, Sanj)

8:10 p.m. - Dadgum! Looking @ the crowd of 90,000 @ Sanford, I wouldn't wanna be a Bama fan there...

9 p.m. - More waiting room etiquette: eat your own dang food, for Jeebus sake.

9:21 p.m. - Dang! He's having trouble keeping his oxygen levels up again.

6:59 a.m. - New patient relative came in waiting room while everyone was still asleep. Tried 2 make conversation with us. ''Do you all have relatives in ICU?'' No. We're camping. In unspoken pact, we ignored her until she left.

10:42 a.m. - My awesome bro in law convinced I'm too tired 2 make best decision. Will take a night 2 rest before proceeding.

11:08 a.m. - Lovingly attacked by very sweet but very smelly stray dog outside the front doors. Time 4 shower.

11:10 a.m. - Towels here smell oddly like Hostess powdered sugar doughnuts.

12:09 p.m. - Didn't know I was married to Mr. Fancy Pants. Mayor Deke came by to check on us. He didn't like my Michael Phelps impression. Oh, well.

12:13 p.m. - Just got sprayed in the head by an automatic air freshener in the bathroom, so... Par for the course i guess

1:20 p.m. - 1 of his doctors just strutted by. I'd like to tackle him, get him in a headlock & demand answers... But I also want them to keep coming back to check on him.

2:27 p.m. - Gah! Why do strangers want to know my bidness? (Sigh) I think I'm getting grumpy.

4:30 p.m. - Soooo.... tired.... going home to sleep.

2:20 a.m. - Not a quiet night. Some coughing - not easy on a vent. His O2 levels drop when that happens. Alarming, but the nurses & resperatory therapist all respond quickly.

2:26 a.m. - I wish I knew how he feels. If I could at least tell if he's in pain, I'd feel more like I'm doing my part to protect & care for him.

3:33 a.m. - When Scott wakes up, could someone convince him that he doesn't have 2 fight everything all the time? It's ok 2 relax. Ha. She says while standing watch @ 3:30 am...

7:47 a.m. - Fever back up, dangit. Finishes first round of plasma replacement today. I hoped he'd progress faster. He's always been a procrastinator.

8:25 a.m. - Mmmm... Panera bagels... Thanks, Stoney!

10:47 a.m. - NEWS: Epstein-Barr test was +. In severe cases, it can cause TTP. Still, his doctors don't think that's the smoking gun...

10:57 a.m. - Dr. doesn't want paralytic now b/c might b complications. His solution: morphine. Anyone else nervous?

11:57 a.m. - Mmm... Sammiches from Roly Poly. Thanks, Metro Spirit!! Miss you lots!

12:02 p.m. - Which reminds me: The new issue of Metro Augusta Parent goes to press today. Everyone be nice to the folks @ 700 Broad St! Parent reaches 38,000 readers each month. Call 706-738-1142 to reach our readers through advertising.

1:39 p.m. - Wow. Just passed a horrible wreck on W-boro Rd. I'm thankful Scott has a chance. I don't think that person did. Going home 2 sleep 4 a couple hours now that someone finally relieved me. Running on about 90 minutes rest.

7:46 p.m. - Couldn't sleep. Did laundry. Bathed dog. Checked email. Laid down 2 fix back... And woke up 3 hours later, disoriented & drooling on my pillow. Sexy.

10:20 p.m. - Thinking about how little time doctors have spent w/ Scott - & me - & wonder if should replace 1 or more specialists... or demand more tests? West Nile? CT scan? Something I don't know the name of? ... Or, since diagnosis is so unfamiliar, maybe move him 2 a place where it would be more familiar - Emory? If anyone has ideas, would love 2 hear them. Not trying 2 insult his caretakers or the hospital. But not all hospitals have same resources, & all health care is not created equal.

6:59 a.m. - Not a great night or morning, but could be worse. He's still very agitated but maxed out on his sedation. They may order a paralytic.

9:45 a.m. - Now the big turd is running a fever. Really - does he have to create more drama? Someone nominate him for a Razzie.

10:07 a.m. - Funny: Scott's sister Vivian just got a call from her secretary saying that their law office is on fire. She's going back 2 ATL to deal with it

12:26 p.m. - His fever is higher now, along with his blood pressure - and his agitation. Dr. Brennan has decided against a paralytic for now. Seem counter-intuitive to anyone else?

12:31 p.m. - They'll probably go w/ a peripheral inserted central catheter (PICC line). That indicates he'll B here a while.

12:34 p.m. - Monsanto sent a nice snack bag - thanks!

2:22 p.m. - His fever is up again - 38.9 C / whatever F - so they gave him 650 mg of Tylenol.

2:33 p.m. - Um... Weird ideas about supernatural methods of healing being tossed around right now.

2:38 p.m. - Armchair q-backing/ diagnosing from non-med peeps. Everything from Lyme disease to - heck, probably demon possession.

3:34 p.m. - Just saw his chest x-rays for today. Some visible improvement, even just since yesterday.

5:09 p.m. - Ran home to shower and feed the dog. I swear I just saw la chupacabra on Kissingbower Road... I think I need more sleep.

6:01 p.m. - New theory from reputable source @ CDC. Will follow up & report back... If I ever see a doctor...

6:48 p.m. - Chris' law firm just delivered a huge UGA cooler full of snacks - very cute!

10:09 p.m. - I was all telephoned out after 5 days, so I took a break for a few hours. I'll return calls in the morning. X-ray improved from Tues. Organs holding steady. Fever down some. Less agitation. Hoping for a quiet night.

10:22 p.m. - I expected faster turnaround. Silly, naive me. If he's out of the hospital before Halloween, I'll count my blessings.

10:28 p.m. - Nights are so quiet and tense here. Geez someone tell a joke.

10:29 p.m. - Remind me later 2 write a piece about the waiting room caste system.

10:35 p.m. - "How long you been here?" "Five days." (scoff) "That's nothing. We've been here five YEARS." Way 2 keep up morale, people.

12:18 am. - He's well enough for a feeding tube now; And the nurse tells me his kidneys seem 2 B working a little better.

12:22 a.m. - This thing hit so fast, so hard... He was less than 5 minutes from death on Sat night. His nurses saved his life. I am so grateful.

1:12 a.m. - He seems 2 be restful now. I'm going 2 try 2 sleep. Ahh, vinyl chair, my old friend...

2:23 a.m. - He's biting his breathing tube. They're going 2 have 2 put a bite block on him.

2:44 a.m. - Alarms going off. I'm freaking.

2:48 a.m. - Turns out nothing wrong. They removed his monitors while they bathed/changed him, & switched tubes & electrodes.

9:42 a.m. - Spoke with Dr. Brennan. Scott's x-rays show the sponginess seems to have reduced by 1/3. Good news.

9:46 a.m. - His kidney function has not improved measureably, but at least it is no longer declining. Still waiting for a lot of test results.

3:02 p.m. - Emmie @ home tonight for the 1st time in 4 days. She's w/ my sis. She's been w/ Scott's bro. She'll go to Atl. w my family for the weekend. Her two young cousins will keep her mind off the situation.

3:55 p.m. - Drama from one family member. Note to world: asserting your desires over others' in this situation is not appreciated.

4:17 p.m. - He just opened his eyes for a sec to look @ his sister, Vivian. That brought happy tears to her eyes.

9:35 p.m. - His platelets are back down to 27,000, so the nurses are bagging up some more for him. Snack time!

9:40 p.m. - Hard to be away from Emerson. My sis says E. stops mid-play & whines that she misses us. I need to be here for now. Emerson is the only thing that can take my attention from Scott, and he needs me to be his advocate while he can't protect himself.

10:40 p.m. - Nurses warning us that noise, touch, & conversation agitates him. We R trying 2 keep the room dark & quiet so he will rest.

10:55 p.m. - Stuck my finger in his mouth 2 try 2 get him 2 stop gnawing his breathing tube & he chomped my finger. Swear I saw him smile a little.

11:50 a.m. - It's been a good day so far. They have been able to reduce his sedation. He has opened his eyes and responded by nodding.

11:54 a.m. - It was good to see that the whites of his eyes are now a paler yellow than they have been. The concern now - besides everything else, of course - is that his kidneys have taken a hit. They might begin dialysis.

11:56 a.m. - Thanks to all of our snack fairies. We certainly never go hungry.

12:35 p.m. - Mmmm... Wife Saver. Thanks, Beasley Broadcasting!

4:05 p.m. - He's getting his second bag of blood of the day b/c his hemoglobin is low.

4:08 p.m. - ''At least he's on the mend,'' a friend said. I wish. The best we can say is that his march towards certain death has slowed.

7:29 p.m. - They've lessoned his sedation and it has allowed him to respond in his own way: turn his head towards voices; faint squeeze of his hand... He's not necessarily getting better, but it's gratifying to me.

8:18 p.m. - Running home 2 pick up essentials (even Scott prob. wants me 2 wear deoderant). Feel like I'm playing hooky: worried, guilty, excited.

12:13 a.m. - After six hours of physically fighting him to keep his ox mask on and stay in the bed, I have given consent to put him on a ventilator. Watching the preparations makes me 2nd guess myself.

12:16 a.m. - I asked the nurse if I am making a mistake. She says no. He is very agitated. We are not able 2 keep him calm.

12:38 - The vent is not improving things.

12:41 a.m. - No one indicated to me just how sick he really is. I've been making jokes to try to keep the mood up. I feel like an ass.

1:52 a.m. - The 2 most terrifzing words in the English language: ''crash cart.''

3:15 a.m. - Scott is stable but currently unconscious on a respirator. This won't get better any time soon. It could be days, weeks - or it could kill him. We just don’t know.

8:48 a.m. - Theories abound. Answers are few. Calling Dr. House...

10:26 a.m. - They may have isolated what's ailing Scott: an auto-immune disorder called TTP. It's Thrombo-somethingsomething-Purpora.

10:53 a.m. - They have a course of treatment that works for TTP - and the class of similar diseases that it could also be.

11 a.m. - They remove his plasma and replace it with both his own blood products & new plasma w/o the deadly antibodies his body is producing.

11:03 a.m. - If it is effective, we could see results in a day or two. It may take longer. & there is a chance it may not work at all.

11:04 a.m. - We've consented to an arterial catheter & they have begun treatment.

3:28 p.m. - Semi-official diagnosis: thrombotic thrombocytopenic purpura - ever heard of it? Me neither.

3:31 p.m. - First course of treatment is very encouraging. His jaundice is improved. He just LOOKS better.

3:34 p.m. - Even if he snaps out of this tomorrow, it will be a while before he gets out of the hospital. But here is better than the worst alternative.

5:05 p.m. - Going home for the first time since Friday. Wish Scott were, too. Needed a task to start & finish so I cooked dinner 4 my parents - they did clean my house, after all

7:52 p.m. - Scary again. Some coughing and blood drawn from his lungs. ''Every time he coughs you're going 2 c blood. His chest x-ray did not look good," the nurse says.

8:34 p.m. - He seems to be stable again... But for how long this time? I'm afraid to fall asleep.

8:39 p.m. - They are giving him another round of platelets now.

8:56 p.m. - Nurse says it's still touch and go but that he's on a continuous positive upward swing

9:04 p.m. - By the way: no flowers or other allergins allowed. Don't bother sending them. If you want to help, you can donate blood, plasma, time, or money.

9:41 p.m. - New development: we're giving away our housebroken rat terrier, Scrabble. With a suppressed immune system, I am making an executive decision that we can't risk the allergens. So if you would like to take this very fun and loving dog, please give me a call.

10:05 a.m. - Scott in hospital. No idea what's wrong. Liver. Lungs. All malfunctioning. 10:05 AM

10:06 am. - Blood o2 dropping. On o2 mask now.

10:09 a.m. - Heart rate erratic. Adding a monitor 4 that, too.

10:11 a.m. - Odd how small a grown man can seem behind all the machinery.

10:13 a.m. - He's babbling about west virginia and political campaign law - & who is e. Smith?

10:27 a.m. - Pain meds have him talking out his @$$

10:29 a.m. - He wants me 2 measure how fast he's going. Seeing as he's strapped 2 an ox mask i estimate 0 mph.

10:54 a.m. - I think of that line in 'the graduate' about plastics. Someone totally makes a killing from hospitals alone.

12:11 p.m. - Gastrointerologist in 4 a check. No immediate answers. Wants 2 move him 2 intensive care.

12:23 p.m. - Moving him 2 ICU.

2:53 a.m. - A new doc just told us he has ARDS, also called 'leaky lungs' may have 2 put him on a ventilater

3:05 p.m. - Scott is moving 2 the cardio-pulmonary intensive care unit - room 499. Send money.

3:11 p.m. - Scott's all hopped up on pain meds. He just pressed the nurse call button and said 'hey there's this beeping noise & we want 2 know if someone can come down here & get rid of it!' It's been beeping all day.

4:21 p.m. - Emmie isn't allowed 2 c Scott. Children under 12 not allowed on the floor. It makes us all sad. It was Scott's only request.

4:23 p.m. - A relative has arrived spewing drama, of course. I'm saving my drama for when it counts with Scott's treatment.

4:27 p.m. - ''How does your mom cry and keep her makeup on?'' ''I don't know. It's crazy.''

7:18 p.m. - Back 2 the hospital. Visiting hours are open, except 4 shift change between 6-8 am & pm. Only 2 people in the room @ a time.

8:37 p.m. - If anyone wants 2 learn about the Continental Congress, come 2 room 499.

8:39 p.m. - Theory by Hudson. Lecture by Dilauded - and other opiates.

11:46 p.m. - No surprise here but Scott has been fighting with anyone who will listen about the oxygen mask. It's been going on since 4 pm.

11:50 p.m. - The nurse just flushed the toilet. Scott said, ''Did you hear that? I think we just had a plane crash!'' And tried to leap out of bed to go cover the story.

We came into the University Hospital ER at 5 p.m. on Sept. 19 because Scott thought he had jaundice. He was admitted at 10:30 p.m.

AUGUSTA, GA. - WGAC News/Talk 580 Investigative Journalist Scott Hudson was hospitalized Friday, Sept. 19, for an undetermined illness. He is at University Hospital, in the Cardio-Pulmonary Intensive Care Unit. For updates to his condition, please follow twitter.com/stacey_hudson.

In other words, my wonderful husband is sick and I don't have time or resources to talk to the 50 people a day who call me about it. Brief tweets are all I can wrap my head around. Hope for the best, folks. He's seen better days.

"So what would you like for dinner, sweetheart?" I asked Emmie as we neared the strip of fast-food places on Walton Way. I know, I know: fast food. But I'm sorry: when I work 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., I'm just not in a cooking mood.

"Um, I wan... I wan... peanut butter jelly! No, no. I wan chicken nugget!" she squealed.

"Okay, I - "

"An I wan appews and da brown stuff dat... dat... da brown stuff dat taste like good..." she tried to explain.

"Caramel sauce?" I asked.

"YES!" she screamed. "CAMEL SAUCE!"

I sniggered behind my hand. "Okay. Chicken nuggets, apples, and camel sauce."

I flipped on my blinker to turn towards McDonald's. I saw her brow furrowed as she sat in the back seat.

"Mama?" she whispered in a fearful rasp.

"What, sweetie?"

"Dey not eat da camels, right?" she squawked.

I laughed. "No, honey. CAR-A-MEL sauce. Not CAMEL sauce."

"OoooOOOh," she said, with a laugh and a shake of her curls. "Cawamamel sauce. We not eat camels!"

"No," I laughed, as she burst into giggles.

"Das gon be YUCK!"

Before we could cook anything at Amber's house this weekend, we had to go fill up the propane tank.

Am I the only one who didn't know how to do that?

Hey, let's take an 8-year-old and a ball of explosive death in a minivan to the gas station, where more potential explosives await. Great idea. I'm not already nervous enough driving someone else's car.

This was my solution:

Walking along the Greenway today, Emerson started reciting nursery rhymes.

"Honkey Donkey sat onna wall. Honkey Donkey had a grey fall."

"Um, honey, do you mean Humpty Dumpty?"

"NO! I said, Hon-Key Don-Key," she enunciated quite clearly.

"Hump-ty Dump-ty?" I asked, desperately.

She whirled and pointed at me: "No. Hon-Key Don-Key. Now lemme finish!"

Oooookay...

We went over to Amber's house last night (and by "we" I mean Emmie and me, because I certainly couldn't include Amy and Nola in that collective, now could I? I mean, plans were made and food was purchased and people were informed, but actually showing up, well, that could never be assumed from a verbal agreement to partake of the fun with us just me and Emmie; certainly no one else was supposed to go with us) and Emmie was a little weird.

Sometimes she gets solitary and goes off to play by herself. Once at our house she went into her room and when I went in to invite her to come back and play, she said, "Um, no dankoo. But I jus' wan' be by mysef' righ' now. Dank yoo berry mush, mama."

So last night she toddled off to play with the dolls that Anne and Madelaine said she could use, quietly enjoying herself while we talked around the kitchen island. About a half-hour into the conversation, Madelaine exclaimed, "Mom! She took the dolls' clothes off!"

Amber looked at her 10-year-old, bemused. "Well, that's what kids do with dolls."

"Yeah, they were kind of attached," Madelaine retorted, with a sarcastic hint of the teenage years to come.

We burst into laughter.

"Emmie, will you please bring the dolls in here?" I called.

Yes, the clothes had been stitched onto the dolls. But even that couldn't stop Emerson. When she was just learning to crawl, she often encountered obstacles in her path - a chair, a table leg, a dog. Instead of veering around them, she put her head down like a Bighorn sheep and tried to power through whatever was stopping her. She had taken that same attitude when faced with immovable doll garments. In fact, she still puts her head down and pushes when someone stands in her way. Pushes with her head. Like, what are your arms even for, child?

"I thought you were just being possessive of your toys," Amber laughed, as Madelaine gave her a look that clearly spoke volumes as to how little her own mother knew her. Neither of Amber's children are selfish - not in the least - but each of us has material possessions that hold special significance to us.

The clothes could be stitched back on - by some adult who possesses the ability to do such things, which I do not. Madelaine was still clearly not amused by the whole scenario - but her younger sister Anne laughed freely.

"Should I replace the dolls?" I asked Madelaine. She shook her head and grinned a little. She was beginning to see the humor.

"Are you sure?" I asked. She's a generous girl, and I didn't want her to resent the situation later by being self-effacing at the moment.

"No," she said, with a shrug and a grin. "Mom can fix it."

If only someone could fix my child. I fully expect - 12 years from now - for her to encounter her SATs and brace her head against the paper on her desk.

I'd better get her into soccer soon.

Getting dressed for the park...

Me: "This shirt is getting small. That means you are getting bigger!"

Emmie (excitedly): "Yeah! I gon' get bigger - like you!"

Me: "Yeah!"

Emmie: "Like your head!"

Ummm....

AUGUSTA, GA - What price honor?

That's what I've been asking myself this week after passing a woman whose car had broken down on Riverwatch Parkway. It was blisteringly hot, the car obviously just had a flat tire that I could easily have changed in 10 minutes, and as I passed her she turned so that I saw she had a toddler on her hip.

I didn't stop.

I was running late for a sales meeting, and I didn't notice her until I was right on her. Besides, there's nowhere on Riverwatch Parkway to turn around until you hit downtown and she was on her cell phone to someone.

And yet... it didn't feel right to pass her when I could have helped.

Not that anyone else was stopping. You simply don't see that in Augusta. As a teenager living in metro-Atlanta, I broke down in my 1970 Chevy van plenty of times. Someone always stopped to help. As an adult, I've broken down a couple of times in my car. No one has ever stopped. Even sheriff's deputies only stop to remind people to get their car off the shoulder in a couple of days or risk having it towed.

And although I've complained about the fact that Augusta is far from the city of brotherly love - in both geography and personality - there I was, flying past a person in need with the capability to help her, but not the time.

I called Scott.

"Honey, there's a woman with a toddler broken down on the side of Riverwatch Parkway," I said.

"And?"

"And it's hot as hell and she's got a baby with her. Isn't there someone you can call?"

He paused for a moment.

"Yes. I can call dispatch to see if they can send someone to help her," he answered.

"Oh, thank you, sweetie. I appreciate it. Will you do it now?"

"Of course."

I breathed a sigh of relief, but I really wasn't comforted. It could take an hour before a deputy became available, and I'm pretty sure it was so close to shift change that not one of them was going to volunteer for the job. Even if someone did arrive quickly, I still felt bad at not stopping.

Still, I got to the sales meeting only a couple of minutes late and grabbed my stuff out of the car when one of the city's persistent homeless began a sales meeting of his own.

"Hey, baby girl. Can you spare a dollar so a brother can catch the bus?" he asked.

"I'm sorry; I don't carry cash," I answered, truthfully.

"You ain't got a dollar?" he demanded, not seeing irony in his incredulity considering that he also did not posses a dollar.

"I don't have a dime," I responded, looking him in the eye.

"Well, whatcha doing?" he asked, eyeing me in a way that - had I been carrying any money - would have made me clutch my purse closer to my body.

"Working - why don't you try it?" I shot back, opened the door to the air-conditioned office and left him outside on the broiling sidewalk.

Good work, Me. There's that charitable behavior you're looking for.

Emmie had never seen or held a kitten before, so Amber's beautiful older daughter, Madeleine, gently handed her one of the tiny un-weaned furballs. She tried to take one home with us, so I had to explain that Scrabble, our rat terrier, might eat it for breakfast.

"Frabble not eat it," she said. "I gon' BAM him an' say, 'No, Frabble! Time out!'"

Yeah. Take that, "Frabble."

Emmie likes to put (clean) pull-ups on her head. I see a multitude of lampshades in her future. As for my husband... there's just no excuse.

Why does everything in the background look so wonky? I mean, we don't live in a house drawn by Dr. Seuss!

This man's ass was blinking. I'm sure there's a purpose, but still... blinking ass. Just not a normal sight.

AUGUSTA, GA. - You know that a blog service is extraneous when your readership and comments participation actually drops after you install it. For that reason, I've removed the Live Appeal service I had added to my blog, and I've gone back to the normal comments function. I have added a "followers" option to the sidebar, but it's entirely voluntary. Sorry to anyone to whom this has caused annoyance (ahem... the ever-outspoken Alice), but I also appreciate your feedback.

Hope this gets things back to normal. In the meantime, I'll try to post the tidbits I wrote down this week but didn't get a chance to type.

Love to my readers!

Stacey

Okay, so I'm a cheapskate and I refuse to pay for cable. That mean unless it didn't happen on something lame (excluding "Lost" and "Law & Order," which are awesome), I don't know it happened.

But The Daily Show makes me want to call the local cable companies and say "Give me 53 channels of crap and two that I'll actually watch! Please let me pay you $150 a month for the privilege!"

Here, John Stewart and pals take on the political spin machine:

AUGUSTA, GA. - So there's video of this incident, but I can't seem to get it to load into the page. Whatever. I passed these folks on the road, and I couldn't help but notice the name of their business.

I had to call.

"Hello?" a man's voice answered.
"Hi, I'm looking for Hooker's Trapping Service," I said.
"This it," he said.
"Great! Listen, how much are the hookers?" I asked.
"What?"
"How much are the hookers?!" I said, louder.
"Well, I dunno. Whatcha got goin' on?" he said.

AUGUSTA, GA. - Alt-weeklies are the Mighty Mouse raising up in defiance of the Daily Elephant. Although sometimes the Atlanta Journal-Constitution (my "hometown" paper) hits the right tone, I know I can skip an issue (or five) and get what I need online. But I never miss an issue of Creative Loafing while I'm in town. In all honesty, I don't care for the daily paper's watered-down version of American "culture." The Oklahoma Gazette demonstrates why alt-weeklies are important to local society.

AUGUSTA, GA. - "Happy Anniversary!" I chirped to Scott when he emerged, red-eyed and yawning, from our boudoir. He grinned and smooched me.

"Four years down," I joked. "Four more years! Four more years!"

He smirked sleepily. I'd been up and had my caffeine. He wasn't ready for me yet.

"Hey," I continued, oblivious. "We got married in an election year. It's election year again."

He nodded groggily - dare I say wearily?

"Maybe we should run for re-election every four years, too."

He peered at me, considering how best to kill me without getting caught. The coffee defense - would it work? Caffeine is a drug. Drug users aren't always held accountable for their actions.

"What's your platform going to be? I have to know before I can vote for you," I nattered, as his fight-or-flight instinct kicked in and he chose to flee.

"I'll have to think about it," he mumbled, as he headed toward the back porch.

"Okay," I sang. "But it's a tough economy. Nothing's guaranteed."

slam!