...and sometimes your dream crawls on its belly like a reptile

Dragonfly Arts will happen.

But not just yet.

My 84 year old father fell and fractured four lumbar vertebrae in October. (Those of you kind enough to follow this sporadic blog may remember that I went to visit my dad in October of last year. Due to bad knees and a poorly recuperated broken hip, the man could barely walk).

I wasn't home from Michigan a week before he slipped out in the dead of night to drive across the state to meet up with his drinking/gambling buddies in the picturesque town of Plymouth. He met them in a bar, of course, and they spent the night doing what they always do, migrating from one favorite watering hole to another until they ended at Denny's (or some place like it) for coffee and breakfast.



Apparently, Dad, who still thinks he is in his 40's, was surprised at how painful the trip had been on his ancient body and so popped a couple of pain pills. On top of alcohol. And then he fell down went boom.



He spent Thanksgiving in the hospital and Christmas and New Year's in the physical rehab facility and is there now. If all goes well (or ill, depending on how you look at it), he will be allowed to go home Feb. 20. So I am heading up to MI... in February... to spend a month with him and gauge how well he does at home. All of his children feel he should go to Texas to live with Bill and Anna, who actually want him to do that. It would be so good for him if he would, so I am sure he won't... unless I can figure out some way to get him to see reason while I am up there.



Sorry. I had to step away from the computer for a second. I was suddenly overcome with laughter at that last sentence.