The storm that roared into our neck of the woods this weekend was a real butt-tightener. I worked from 6-11am, taking calls from hundreds of listeners describing the awful driving conditions. Roads were impassable, cars were in ditches, (back in Idaho we call roadside ditches "Borrow Pits,)plows were plowing and cops were ticketing drivers for going the speed limit which was TOO fast.
Afterward I spent an hour with Mom at Bethany Homes. Somehow, she seems MORE coherent than prior to her latest hospital adventure. In fact, she was concerned because she couldn't find her cigarettes. I asked her what brand she smokes and she insists "Winston." She'd smoked Virginia Slims for the past umpteen years, so she's a bit off on that count. She hasn't smoked for two-and-a-half years and acted as if she'd NEVER smoked. Well....now....she wants her cigs again.
I give her the clues to her crosswords and the number of letters and the letters we already know. She gets about 80 percent correct. It's been a fun couple of visits of late. She's sharp and not as morose as in the past.
I was telling Jane about stories I've read of when people go blind for instance when they get a bonk on the noggin, and decades later get another bonk and get their sight back. I wonder of this second trauma this winter maybe bonked her into answering crosswords correctly and yearning for her cigs. The brain is a mysterious organ indeed.
(Not having one, I wouldn't know for sure...but I've read that it's a nysterious thingy.)
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