I literally *just* popped Crowded House - Recurring Dream into my CD player and was humming along to "Don't Dream It's Over" when the following article showed up on my flist:
Dh is off to work. The kitchen is, again, a disaster--but it is a disaster that we both contributed to equally, so I'm not terribly bothered by it. Most of it is from the yeasted doughnuts we made and deep-fried last night. Yum
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I've been following the progress of this off and on for awhile now. It's a tough situation. On the one hand there is the husband (who probably wants to get on with his life after 15 years), on the other is the parents who are willing to accept the financial responsibility of her care to keep her alive. He says that she didn't want to be kept alive
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