sistawendy | Nun and son have fun; Ex does not.

Had a lovely time at a certain solstice pah-tay. Homemade, lite-'n-fluffy egg nog; hypnotic TV, including "how things are made" videos and early CGI; and people wearing blinky lights. I wore two long velvet skirts with my scissor leggings underneath. Of course I showed off the latter because how could I not? I blame

vixyish for being a wonderful enabler. And I was saved from walking to and waiting for the bus on a -3C night when another partygoer offered me a ride home.

This morning I went with the Siberian Siren to get our nails done in Renton. Why there? The SS wanted something super fancy, but didn't want to spend $100 on a manicure. While there, I found out that Exdad has taken a turn for the worse, which I didn't realize until after I'd said something kind of cheeky about how I couldn't walk Ex's dog just then and that she should ask our son instead of me. D'oh! After eats and electrolysis, I took my fab new FM red nails to Ex's and walked the dog.

The latest information I have is that Exdad was on his way to an ICU in Seattle, having possibly had another stroke, where they'll try to get him read for shunt surgery. His pneumonia complicates that. So yeah, Ex is kind of in hell right now. I have put the word on our son not to be a pill to her while I'm in Florida.

Oh: the SS gave me Russian halva, AKA crumbly gray crack, for Christmas. I shared it with m'boy after a pizza at our fave vera pizza joint up the hill. He agrees with my assessment of its addictiveness. I could make it if I had a blender, which I'm tempted to do if I ever need to bring a dessert.