It's the dying part that was kind of hard.
So, I said to myself, "You know, Misty (because that's what I go by back home)," I said, "Misty, you ought to write a blog, seeing as how it's been weeks since your last confession." So, anyway, here I am telling you what I have been up to.
To start off, I am going on my fourth week off of work due to the sickness. I go back this Friday for one day, and then I have a weekend. Sweet, huh? Unfortunately, I am down two paychecks and up a bucketful of medical bills so that is kind of sour. On the bright side, the hospital had a bed for me and was able to, you know, save my life and stuff. Plus, I got to spend a lot of extra time with my family, and even though I spent most of it on the couch or in bed being miserable, it was still great to be with Dave and the kids.
Speaking of kids, Zach said the cutest thing yesterday:
"Mom, you know that big T on the mountain?"
"Sure," I said. "What about it?"
"I think that's where Jesus died. You know, when his arms were like this." And he spread his arms to show me.
"So," I clarified, "you think Jesus died on the T?"
I think I might be failing him.
So, the kittens were born four weeks ago. If any of you want a kitten, and you know who you are, you will need to wait 2-4 weeks longer. Right now they are moving around, walking and running, and bleeding their mother dry. Seriously, she looks like a skeleton. It must be hard to eat for seven.
We named the kittens, for the practical purpose of referring to them individually, Adventurer (originally called JoJo), Snowflake (originally called Big White like Dierks Bentley's white truck), Ballerina, Carmel, Kevin, and Alex the Lion (originally called Ally until we realized he was a boy). Is that all six? Yep, all six. We were kind of nervous, because who really wants a box full of kittens, right? But they have been so cute and the kids just love taking care of them and playing with them. Of course, now the hard part is not only finding families for them, but letting them go. Everyone says they don't like cats, but Dave, who has always had dogs, has done okay with the cat. Not that he would ever admit to you that he doesn't hate it, but he might not hate it. He puts up with it for me, because I want the cat and because he loves me, and that's just sweet. Thanks, Dave.
Anyway, you're all caught up.