At least it's no longer snowing

We're not having the best of days, around here, today. It's not the Worst. Day. Evah., mind you, but I can't call it a stunningly gorgeous spring day fit for a song.

For starters, about 9 a.m., Mom got a call from one of her cousins, informing her that her (long-estranged) half brother had died in his sleep, from complications from his diabetes, and from general wear-and-tear that his addictions had dumped upon him. My uncle was nearly sixteen years younger than Mom -- or, if you will, a little less than ten years my senior. The last time I saw him was at his wedding. That would have been sometime in the mid-1970s. In other words, losing him hasn't really been much of a loss for me or Mom (or the rest of us, here), but that's also what makes this day so much more difficult for Mom. She always feels a little guilty that she didn't get the chance to know her brother, especially during the years when he tried to get clean. But we're still not sure how to react.

She and Dad will drive up to the funeral in the suburbs of Chicago, tomorrow, and return home on Thursday. I'll stay here with the dog -- and not bring the cats over. Might be hard to sleep in a non-cattified bed, but it's probably best for all of us, considering that, about the time Mom picked up the phone, I was hit with my first wave of nausea -- there's some sort of stomach virus going around, and it very kindly stopped by to pay a call on me. I have a little fever and a lot of aches and sleep for 1.5 hours at a time, followed by 45 minutes of waking time to print out the programs I've been producing for the Monmouth Civic Orchestra concert (Saturday, 7 p.m. at Monmouth's First Lutheran Church).

Have had to cancel three appointments I was supposed to keep over the next two days. Hope the bug doesn't stay around long -- tomorrow's weather is supposed to get to just the way I like it: 72º F. and mostly sunny. Perfect for playing in the garden and planting apple trees. Don't want to miss what's likely to be the nicest day of the year, just because I'm making offerings to the porcelain god.