Well, this is the week it all happens, culminating with Saturday's "big bash".
One of my 3 daughters decided a year ago that we should have a grand birthday party--a surprise, no less--for her grandfather, my father. He'll be 90. So she's been planning this occasion for months. And up until yesterday, the surprise aspect was intact.
Unfortunately, a phone call from a friend of my sister in Virginia to my dad, let the cat out of the bag. It was bound to happen, and, in this case, it's a good thing. You see, this sister (I have twins) has kicked her husband of 9 months out of her house, reasons--deceptions and sneakiness. We all knew this was a bad relationship, bound to fail, but you can't tell that to a person in love. Anyway, the "friend" (a psychiatrist) called both my dad and I to give us a "heads-up" on the situation. We were told to be supportive, not judgmental, when Barbara comes later this week. Of course, my father had no clue she was coming. But that's no big deal. It's the rest of the story that's important. Barb called me last night to say she was ok, filling me in on some details. She's a tough bird and will survive.

In the meantime, back at the ranch, I'm boarding a Honduran couple (friends of my daughter who lives down there), in the US on a 6 month visa, looking for work and money in the land of opportunity. They are super cleaning my house and will prepare the food for Saturday's party (for over 30 family members). They speak very little English, and I speak virtually no Spanish. Makes for difficult communication.

Then my children arrive Wed. and Thurs., other family members Friday and Sat. Why my house? It's big. Plus we all know, Indiana is the center of the universe! Now, where's my Ritalin?