It's font fate (this one's for you, Bonnie and Trina)

So, I was just riding around Shawnee with my cousin John, whom I haven't seen probably since Adam and I got married (almost four years ago), and he was telling me about his band. He plays the bass.

"What's the name of your band?" I asked.

"Trebuchet," he said, pronouncing it "tree-bush-ay". All of my lovely journalism kiddoes will recognize this - it's the name of my old favorite font. (My new one is Gill Sans). Of course, the reason I had to give you the pronunciation key for the band name is that in Room K11, we have a fondness for saying the font is actually called "Treebucket."

How weird is that. He said I'm the second person who has said "Oh, you mean like the font?"

We went over to hang a new birdfeeder at my Grandma Jarsulic's window in her assisted living home. She wasn't in her room at the time, though. Probably off playing bingo for chocolates or watching an old B/W movie somewhere.

We're getting ready to go back to the hospital to see Grandma Sax here in a little bit.

I came home a little early last night so Mom could go back. When I left last night, she was really unresponsive, and the chaplain had called for a Catholic priest. It wasn't looking good. She had been out of it all day, not talking or anything. I guess she went down for an MRI about 10 p.m., and when she came back up, she was being spunky, talking to everyone, and she was totally understandable. (She hadn't been really clearly speaking for a few days.) Maybe being closed up in the MRI machine brought her back out of it for a little bit, or something. Who knows.