Check This Cool Thingie Out - Otherwise, General Angst

Check it out: Pandora plays new music for you that it thinks you will like. So far, and I've been listening for almost an hour, it's done very well except for the small Hootie & the Blowfish mishap which was quickly corrected and it apologized fairly abjectly, which I like in my interfaces. I told it I liked Counting Crows, James McMurtry and Lucinda Williams and it's played me Tom Petty and the Meat Puppets, both of whom I have long loved, and introduced me to David Holt and The Glands and Baby Ray, all of which I now like quite a lot.

Other than that, I'm kind of gloomy. It's pouring rain; last night the fireplace refused to draw, so the house smells like old wet smoke. I have a headache, and I spent most of the day taking Mom to Ingles & around. Tomorrow she has a doctor's appointment and another list of errands. This 4 hour a day take care of Mom gig is just getting so old. I tried again to talk her into buying a duplex or 2 apartment house that we could all live in and again she was unenthusiastic. It would be so much easier for me and I'd stop worrying about her when I'm not there - not to mention that it would be an actual investment/inheritance/real place to live. She seems to be determined to stay at Deerfield, though. I can't figure out why: she fights with the landscaping staff, she says she will never, ever call the help desk if she's injured (and I suspect her of having fallen again about 2 weeks ago but lying about it); she flat refuses to even consider going into continuing care or skilled nursing, ever again, and she doesn't eat in the dining hall. So why, exactly, is she living there?

Oh, and there's a squirrel with a mohawk digging up the bulbs I planted on Saturday. I can't figure out if it's the rain that's making him look so punked out or whether some neighbor, driven mad by boredom perhaps, caught him, shaved him and released him. However, he's a pain in the ass, and he keeps coming up on the porch, which sends Theo into paroxysms of rage that can only be satisfied if I go out there and bark at the squirrel myself. But that's okay, since I'm also being driven mad by boredom and I kind of like barking at squirrels on the porch. It gives me a purpose in life and it freaks the squirrels way the fuck out.