Smoked Out

Actually, the noxious fumes from next door are a bit better today. Maybe it's because I kept the hallway window and my office window open a few inches all night, letting in that fresh, 32-degree air. Plus, at a certain point last night I picked up my pillow and a blanket and camped out on the sofa in the living room. (Sr Helena followed suit a few hours later, going to the third floor spare room.) Providentially, just this week, the engineer from the motherhouse is here in Chicago to look at our building's issues and see where we can save on our energy bills, schedule maintenance, etc. So he is able to pursue the source of the fumes and get that addressed.
Yesterday's paper had an article about the earthquake in Italy; I recognized the name of the city (L'Aquila) from Sr. M. Thecla: that's where her parents emigrated from. She still has loads of family right in the city. I called this morning to see if she had heard from them. They have all evacuated to Rome, while the city is digging out from the rubble. The saddest part is that the scientist who had been predicting a major earthquake in just that region had been silenced, accused of trying to provoke a panic.
We just finished our visitation, so I am taking one of the councilors off to Old Town to the Spice shop, and then to the "Jewel" (local grocery) to get our Easter dinner supplies. Too bad the councilors can't stay for Easter!