It's the Easter weekend, so naturally, there is a religious epic on tv. Husband is currently watching The Ten Commandments. I'm in the same room but am occupying my time eating miniature chocolate eggs, flipping through online pictures of Hollywood's shortest actors, and reading blogs. All very important.
Yesterday, husband picked daughter up from university and we had a supper with mother-in-law (sprung from "the home"), daughter and boyfriend, son and girlfriend. It was nice to have a full table. I relied on my usual big meal of frozen pre-stuffed turkey and various veggies and rolls. Mother-in-law regaled us with her tales of the time span from which she derives all memories these days. Dementia can be "interesting" if it wasn't so dreadful. As she slowly sinks deeper into dementia, her edit button is used less and less, with questionable topics ranging from bodily function to on-the-verge of politically incorrect. The kids and their partners took it all in good stride, but when she got to the story of the peasant woman wet nurse my husband shouted from the next room, "Mother!!" It was to no avail, for once a story is started, it must flow through to completion.
I just looked up and Charlton Heston is currently bowing before the talking burning bush. Personally, I would have freaked out.
The weather took a turn. We awoke to snow on the ground. Not a lot, but snow nonetheless. Blah.