Nothing for Sims 2 this weekend...

Unless I feel significantly better by tomorrow I won't be working on Sims 2 anything. I've been getting more and more sick as the week has progressed. I have the weekend off and need to take time to heal, so I think I'm going to do some major bonding with the sofa this weekend. My throat is itchy, my sinuses hurt, my stomach is rolling, my head is aching. Tomorrow they say it's going to rain all day, which will be wonderful for lying in bed with my covers over my head.

Corrected mesh

My mesh had a hole right on the boob. There was 1 vertice that was assigned to the spine instead of the clavicle. And it caused the thing to stretch into the mesh boob. Then the sleeves of the robe were too close to the arms and when the arms were bent, the sleeves disappeared into the forearms. They're all fixed now. I'm still not making any progress on that tutorial. I've been so wiped lately and now I realize it's because I have a nasty cold or something. Itchy eyes, scratchy throat, you name it. Hubby is sick and we share everything so... now my goal is not to spread it further. BUT, I will do that tutorial by Saturday, come Hell or Highwater.

Oh, I almost forgot to say: He also bought me a new monitor! It's beautiful and so fun to look at. I just wish I had the energy to do anything!
Here's the teen mesh I"m still working on.

15 years ago today.

My father died 15 years ago today. I tossed and turned all last night. I thought I was over his death, but I guess one can't ever really be over losing one's parent. I think it's worse because we never really said goodbye, even though he was very sick. He kept the severity of his illness from me until there was no hope and then he was gone so quickly and I was left bitter and angry that the father I had just begun to get to know had been taken away from me.

In his Will he asked for his ashes to be scattered in the Pacific Ocean, the body of water he spent so much of his life on as a career Navy man. And I am still in possession of his ashes. They sit on my book case, overlooking our living room in a beautiful urn. My sons enjoy pointing the urn out to their buddies, "That's my grandpa," they say to first time guests. They like watching their friends eyes widen in fright or awe. I find comfort in knowing that he is with us. But, I have a growing sense of duty to let him go. Perhaps it's because the boys are growing up. Perhaps the hurt little girl in me has finally accepted that she will never really know her father.

For me today, it is like I'm losing him all over again.

Grizz