Gram started wandering and made it out of her building. Without shoes. The police picked her up, yada yada yada, she is now in a nursing home and unhappy to be there. It's been a tough week, and while our actual street was quiet last weekend, life was not.

Did you ever play T-ball as a kid? With the hollow pole holding the softball so kids like me had a chance in hell of hitting the ball? This week my head felt like the softball, whacked hard with a bat. It's still attached, but I've felt like my head is leagues away.

I visited Gram in the hospital and sat with her for a few hours. Low key. Just spending time together. I think she was comforted to have someone there. I was okay while I was there, but on the way home, not so much. I decided to try a little retail therapy, stop by a couple of places I've been wanting to check out for months. I stopped at a yarn store, the one we've driven by every week on our way to Gram's. Closed. For the summer. I headed to the alpaca farm not too far from where I live, which is open during business hours while I work. Closed. For vacation. Oh, cruel fates, forcing me to face my sadness without a fiber fix! Perhaps the fates know the state of my yarn room. Or about the CVM fleece that arrived this week...

We visited Gram in the nursing home. Sat on her bed, held her hand, chatted. She was asleep when we arrived and promptly fell back to sleep after our visit, so I'm not sure she'll remember we were there. She was happy to see us, though, wondered how we knew she was there. "A little birdy told me." We've continued printing out photos and bringing them with us, and I think she's enjoying them. We've got plans to get frames, especially those composite ones, and lightweight photo albums.

Blogging might resume next week, might be sketchy, might be all about the fiber or (it would be shocking) maybe a little knitting thrown in for good measure. It's too hot to do much, anyway. I've been combing the corriedale I washed some moons past. Sweat drips down my body, but there's minimal contact with the fibers, so I don't mind. I've grown a nice pile of cloudy fluff.