The Kind of News You Couldn’t Make Up

Heron breezed in this morning: “Today is Peacock’s birthday.”
Oh, shoot. 
Forgot again.
To be fair, I rarely know the date or even the month without checking.

Time has no meaning around here.
We’re living in a bubble where time doesn’t exist.
And I rarely look at the calendar.

There are only ten days between Raven’s birthday and Peacock’s.
Have you ever tried to keep up with kids’ birthdays that close together?

I quickly sent Peacock a birthday text.

Then Raven popped out of his bedroom. 
Turns out, he didn’t go to work last night.
Now, this is the kind of thing I’d normally share with my uncle, but I can’t. 
So y’all get it.
Let me try to explain. 
He just blew our minds. 
His former partner is going to rent a house that she’ll be living in with her current partner and a friend.
Raven has given her rent money. 
He plans to live in the backyard in an RV, which he hasn’t purchased and has no clue how to hook up.
Um, yeah.

He’s quit his current job and seems to think he’ll have a new one closer to the house.
But they don’t have the house yet.

I popped my head into his bedroom. 
He has everything piled in the middle of the room, and he seems to think he’s actually moving.
If his littles come down this weekend, they’ll have to be on my couch. There’s no bedroom.

This just screams disaster in the making. 
I hope Raven doesn’t end up hurt.
Raven is back at her house tonight. 
All I can say is, dang.

Let’s see if we can hurry this thing up.

We got to town, picked up our weekly groceries, and came home. 
The day passed as usual.
Cowboy headed to work.
It was just Badger and me all evening. 
She’s been in her room when she wasn’t out in the she‑shed with the dog.

The honest truth is, my legs throb.
I know it’s because I’m so heavy, and I am. 
Coming down that steep hill was rough. My weight definitely didn’t help.
I’ve sat at my desk and done nothing.
I plan on- well, scratch that.

We’ll have to prepare for Raven’s littles.
If they’ll be sleeping in the living room, there’s a bit more deep hiding needed than usual.
So, a pretty boring day.

I clicked on Facebook this evening and saw that another Class of ’88 classmate had died. 
This one hit like a bomb.

I went to Pre‑K with her, “private kindergarten,” they called it back then. 
We went to school together from kindergarten through high school graduation. 
We went to church together, choir, GA’s, Sunday mornings.

I wasn’t liked in school. 
I was the quiet, poor girl wearing the rich girl’s hand‑me‑downs. 
I was the freak, the outsider.

This girl, she was a rich girl, but she was kind to me. 
She tried to stay in touch after we all joined Facebook.

I’m just terrible about staying in touch with people. 
They’ll text, and I’ll think, yeah, I should reply, and it’s ten years later and too late.

But this hits hard. 
She was on Facebook the 14th and gone the 19th.

I’ll admit, I had a good cry over her. 
There aren’t many old classmates I’ve cried over. 
Expressed shock at their passing, maybe, but never a good cry.

As soon as I get Heron off to his RV for the night, I’ll head to bed.
It’s not quite midnight, but close enough, and I’m sleepy.