Gramma,
Happy Halloween. Saturday night's annual Witches Ball was a success. The bike club and some of the Christmas cookie exchange group were in attendance. My floors are covered with leaf litter and footprints. Despite rain much of the day, the guys were able to get a bonfire going with a blow torch.
Blood spurted from a steak stuffed into the neck of the headless guy. I warned him to step away from a quilt that had taken months to make. The flasher's interpretive dance included a stuffed pantyhose appendage, which Freddy Krueger tried to filet. The priest and nun were unsuccessful at saving souls.
Two zombie girls spent hours in the upstairs bathroom doing their makeup. They didn't even take a break to refresh beverages. I checked on them to make sure they weren't locked in. The temperamental door intermittently requires someone from the outside to open it. That can be scary in an unfamiliar house with a haunted reputation. The noise coming from the Halloween village on the main floor drowned out the screaming and door pounding coming from upstairs.
One of the cookie exchange girls showed up late, drunk and disorderly. A big joint was hanging out of her mouth. She is not a big pot smoker, but thought it would be cool to ask people for a light. Her ex-husband-to-be had been a club member, but was kicked out for causing too many mandatory meetings with the Hell's Angels, Girlfriend did not help his cause. It is bad form to criticize another club when you are at a party on their turf.
She decided to kiss all the guys around the fire, claiming it was her birthday and she could do as she pleased. She was also dancing around in dark corners with a member who was there with his girlfriend. This too, is bad form. She will not be invited to anymore events where club members are present. I was glad when her driver dragged her out to the car. I would imagine she is still recovering. Drunkeness and diabetes is not a good combination.
Family drama kept another couple away. The evil drunken mother of two grandchildren threw the family dog out of a moving truck. Then she tried to choke her ex-husband, threatening to kill him and get custody of the kids. This is while he was driving. The kids were screaming. They told the police they never wanted to see her again.
One of the cookie exchange girls and her husband were headed to North Dakota to support the pipeline protest. Otherwise, almost everyone showed up. Two of the dogs were dressed as wieners. Two were sent to their boxes for trying to mark guests as their territory.
As witches arrived, I was just getting out of the shower. There wasn't time to put on some Christmas music. I should have gotten up earlier, but we were out late the night before celebrating at a surprise birthday party.
A friend spent the night and helped put food away. It had taken me all month to prepare for this event. Sunday was spent on the couch watching bad t.v. Then the Packers lost by one point. I shouldn't have chosen to watch NatGeo after that. Seeing the planet destruct from global warming is the stuff of nightmares.
The gates are open for brave trick-or-treaters, It is over fifty degrees here in the northwoods. As I can't keep candy in the house without it disappearing, the kids are getting mardi-gras beads. The grandkids will be here next weekend to help take down the mess. Their next visit will be to install Christmas, much less involved than Halloween.
Showing posts with label Dogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dogs. Show all posts
Monday, October 31, 2016
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
The Soulless Lot
Gramma,
Drove the truck to a motorcycle event the other night. It's a good time to catch up with old friends. It was too rainy to ride. We parked the car and headed to the bar. There was a big fat white cop who felt the need to yell and heatedly gesture at us to walk to a distant tent instead of to our nearby destination. It was confusing that he was making us go that way. The people in the tent were also not clear on why he did that. He was a cop rented for the evening. The attitude from the man with the gun served to perpetuate the current negativity towards officers. Way to alienate people for next year. Put me in a mood for the evening. When we left, the officer was enjoying a jovial conversation with a Barbie doll.
For the most part, I have been a law-abiding citizen, but cops are a fickle bunch and I have serious trust issues with them. For years, I needed to pop Xanax every time I saw one in my rear view mirror. They betrayed me completely when I was most in need of protection from my ex-husband. They falsified police reports. They said I wasn't being followed by a suspicious person, that it was probably someone who wanted to get to know me. I said, "I am very approachable. There is someone following me wherever I go." It was someone stalking me on behalf of my ex. The police refused to take any action. I didn't realize they were all in the same bed.
I was terrified after my daughter and I were shot at and the police declined to help me. Two of my dogs were already missing/killed and another was taken to the vet with a gunshot wound. My heart was racing all the time. I put nails in a piece of plywood and laid it across the driveway at night. I called a private investigator to document what my ex was doing to me. When I found out she was a friend of the county sheriff, who was a friend of my ex's family, I canceled her services. In retrospect, I wonder if she would have stood her ground in defending my claim.
In my search for one of the missing dogs, I met a man who turned out to be a convicted child molester. I told him what was going on. He said he could help me. Instead, he contacted my ex and a plan was put in motion to set me up for solicitation of murder. The police facilitated a "Squeal for a Deal" with the child molester. In exchange for his testimony against me, they would keep him out of prison on his latest offense. The molester couldn't keep any of his stories straight. He and my ex were deposed separately. Their lies didn't match up. Of course, no action was taken for perjury.
So, yeah, I have trust issues with police. I know other white people who have had equally disastrous experiences with law enforcement. I don't like attorneys either. They seem pretty much like a soulless lot.
Drove the truck to a motorcycle event the other night. It's a good time to catch up with old friends. It was too rainy to ride. We parked the car and headed to the bar. There was a big fat white cop who felt the need to yell and heatedly gesture at us to walk to a distant tent instead of to our nearby destination. It was confusing that he was making us go that way. The people in the tent were also not clear on why he did that. He was a cop rented for the evening. The attitude from the man with the gun served to perpetuate the current negativity towards officers. Way to alienate people for next year. Put me in a mood for the evening. When we left, the officer was enjoying a jovial conversation with a Barbie doll.
For the most part, I have been a law-abiding citizen, but cops are a fickle bunch and I have serious trust issues with them. For years, I needed to pop Xanax every time I saw one in my rear view mirror. They betrayed me completely when I was most in need of protection from my ex-husband. They falsified police reports. They said I wasn't being followed by a suspicious person, that it was probably someone who wanted to get to know me. I said, "I am very approachable. There is someone following me wherever I go." It was someone stalking me on behalf of my ex. The police refused to take any action. I didn't realize they were all in the same bed.
I was terrified after my daughter and I were shot at and the police declined to help me. Two of my dogs were already missing/killed and another was taken to the vet with a gunshot wound. My heart was racing all the time. I put nails in a piece of plywood and laid it across the driveway at night. I called a private investigator to document what my ex was doing to me. When I found out she was a friend of the county sheriff, who was a friend of my ex's family, I canceled her services. In retrospect, I wonder if she would have stood her ground in defending my claim.
In my search for one of the missing dogs, I met a man who turned out to be a convicted child molester. I told him what was going on. He said he could help me. Instead, he contacted my ex and a plan was put in motion to set me up for solicitation of murder. The police facilitated a "Squeal for a Deal" with the child molester. In exchange for his testimony against me, they would keep him out of prison on his latest offense. The molester couldn't keep any of his stories straight. He and my ex were deposed separately. Their lies didn't match up. Of course, no action was taken for perjury.
So, yeah, I have trust issues with police. I know other white people who have had equally disastrous experiences with law enforcement. I don't like attorneys either. They seem pretty much like a soulless lot.
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Dog Tired
Gramma,
Moonshine had a strange Uber customer yesterday--a set of keys.
We got so much rain yesterday, two rivers are flooding. Tornado's of destruction, threw people's shit around. But, today is a top ten gorgeous Minnesota day. There's a nice breeze cloudless skies, low humidity and 84 degrees. I regret that I was too exhausted to take advantage of it. I had planned to continue work on an outdoor peacock sculpture.
Spent much of the day in bed, too tired to even watch TV. I hope this is not Lyme's disease. I've had it before and was down more than a month, plus lengthy after effects of body aches and bouts of no energy. My friend's dog just tested positive. Mercy was limping and had tender joints. I treat my dogs monthly with a preventative. Why isn't there prevention for people?
Poor Eddie has blue balls. Princess is in heat and he can't reach. I would get him some help, but I don't want winter puppies. Next time. Spring puppies. Ready for summer homes with kids. I am looking forward to making Auggies, an Australian Shepherd, Corgi cross. They are herding dogs. Mine are both mini's.
Don't know what I will do with the revenue. It will not be enough to take the grandkids to Iceland and sleep in an igloo under the northern lights. Maybe my sister and I can go through the Keyes in a rented convertible. I would like to go to Cuba with Dave before McDonald's gets there.
Tomorrow is an unplanned day with lots of options. Hopefully, I will have double energy, which sometimes happens. Dave is working late tonight. I will meet him at the fixit shop with his antique truck. First gear has a rattle. There will be room in the shed for me to dig out the plates necessary for my peacock sculpture. It's time for a beer. Hope I can sleep tonight.
Moonshine had a strange Uber customer yesterday--a set of keys.
We got so much rain yesterday, two rivers are flooding. Tornado's of destruction, threw people's shit around. But, today is a top ten gorgeous Minnesota day. There's a nice breeze cloudless skies, low humidity and 84 degrees. I regret that I was too exhausted to take advantage of it. I had planned to continue work on an outdoor peacock sculpture.
Spent much of the day in bed, too tired to even watch TV. I hope this is not Lyme's disease. I've had it before and was down more than a month, plus lengthy after effects of body aches and bouts of no energy. My friend's dog just tested positive. Mercy was limping and had tender joints. I treat my dogs monthly with a preventative. Why isn't there prevention for people?
Poor Eddie has blue balls. Princess is in heat and he can't reach. I would get him some help, but I don't want winter puppies. Next time. Spring puppies. Ready for summer homes with kids. I am looking forward to making Auggies, an Australian Shepherd, Corgi cross. They are herding dogs. Mine are both mini's.
Don't know what I will do with the revenue. It will not be enough to take the grandkids to Iceland and sleep in an igloo under the northern lights. Maybe my sister and I can go through the Keyes in a rented convertible. I would like to go to Cuba with Dave before McDonald's gets there.
Tomorrow is an unplanned day with lots of options. Hopefully, I will have double energy, which sometimes happens. Dave is working late tonight. I will meet him at the fixit shop with his antique truck. First gear has a rattle. There will be room in the shed for me to dig out the plates necessary for my peacock sculpture. It's time for a beer. Hope I can sleep tonight.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Fear
It stormed last night. The Wicket was hiding under the stove when I got up. She wouldn't even come out for a meat stick. She snarled when one of the other dogs made off with it. Wicket is such a meatloaf that I was concerned about her being stuck. Fear can get you into places not easily escaped. There may have been tornado sirens. Dave and I sometimes hear them, but go back to sleep because we can't care.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
I Make My Own Drama
Bad Gramma,
I thought the last day of the month was yesterday. It's today. The rent is due the last day of the month, not the first. I called the renter and left a message that the rent was due. He is in the apartment, but not answering the door and the blinds are drawn. I send him a text to leave the rent in his entryway or on the counter in my house. No response. I have knocked three different times today. He's only been here a month. I take a sleeping pill with my other meds so I'm not obsessing about this all night.
In the morning I call and he hangs up on me three times. I text him that the rent is now past due and when is he going to pay it. He says, maybe next week. I ask him how soon he can get his stuff out of the apartment. Storage units are readily available. He says he is not moving. I say, you violated the rental agreement with the late rent. Put your stuff in a storage unit and couch surf. He says, no. I say I will start the eviction process. He says, let me know when the court date is.
I am online all morning trying to figure out how to proceed. I call help numbers. There are forms and forms and tenant rights that make it sound like he can live here forever. He can bring the late rent to court and then continue to live here and do it again the next month. Dave tries to call him and he doesn't answer. Dave texts him and says, answer your phone. The guy responds, who is this? I call my brother, who also has rental property.
We agree that renters are mostly assholes. He has done some pretty crazy shit to his bad renters. He says we will load up this guys shit and take it to his work place and drop it off. Or, we will leave it outside the gates and change the code and the locks on the rental unit. None of his suggestions are legal and I don't want to be in court. He says to call him back in a few hours and he will have a plan.
I search online for the renter's wife. I come up with a name and the name of the last realty company she worked for. I call and she is no longer there. I call my friend in real estate and ask her if she can help. She gets me this woman's phone number. I call and tell her what a douche her ex has been. I ask if he is at all violent. She says none of this sounds like her husband. She will call him and find out what's going on.
The renter calls me back and asks what's going on? He has received none of my calls or texts. He tells me today is the last day of the month and he was planning to pay me cash again at the end of the day. He is all concerned and apologetic. He wants to know what number I have been calling. It is not his number. I apologize profusely. He is relieved that there is not a problem. He thinks he shorted me $50.00 last month, so he will add it this month.
He asks if my friend is still moving in when the lease is up. No, I have told her she is too picky and it would ruin our friendship. I tell him the rent will be $50.00 more and to let me know if he is interested. I text his wife and thank her for helping me out. She says anytime. I am glad I didn't tell her about all the women he has over, which wouldn't be true, but I would go out of my way to make his life difficult. I am relieved, but my stomach is still in knots and I feel sick.
I was worried about my dogs, that they would be used for retaliation. I had a renter who took my cat for a ride. I found out what a miserable life Frank had suffered as a result. I was afraid my dogs would be poisoned, run over by this guy going too fast in the driveway, or let out of the gates and get hit by a car. They could be dropped off somewhere and I would never see them again or they would die a cruel death. I hate the idea of supervised outside time and keeping them inside if I am gone all day. They love being outside as much as I do. My dogs are my Xanax. My dogs are my people.
I thought the last day of the month was yesterday. It's today. The rent is due the last day of the month, not the first. I called the renter and left a message that the rent was due. He is in the apartment, but not answering the door and the blinds are drawn. I send him a text to leave the rent in his entryway or on the counter in my house. No response. I have knocked three different times today. He's only been here a month. I take a sleeping pill with my other meds so I'm not obsessing about this all night.
In the morning I call and he hangs up on me three times. I text him that the rent is now past due and when is he going to pay it. He says, maybe next week. I ask him how soon he can get his stuff out of the apartment. Storage units are readily available. He says he is not moving. I say, you violated the rental agreement with the late rent. Put your stuff in a storage unit and couch surf. He says, no. I say I will start the eviction process. He says, let me know when the court date is.
I am online all morning trying to figure out how to proceed. I call help numbers. There are forms and forms and tenant rights that make it sound like he can live here forever. He can bring the late rent to court and then continue to live here and do it again the next month. Dave tries to call him and he doesn't answer. Dave texts him and says, answer your phone. The guy responds, who is this? I call my brother, who also has rental property.
We agree that renters are mostly assholes. He has done some pretty crazy shit to his bad renters. He says we will load up this guys shit and take it to his work place and drop it off. Or, we will leave it outside the gates and change the code and the locks on the rental unit. None of his suggestions are legal and I don't want to be in court. He says to call him back in a few hours and he will have a plan.
I search online for the renter's wife. I come up with a name and the name of the last realty company she worked for. I call and she is no longer there. I call my friend in real estate and ask her if she can help. She gets me this woman's phone number. I call and tell her what a douche her ex has been. I ask if he is at all violent. She says none of this sounds like her husband. She will call him and find out what's going on.
The renter calls me back and asks what's going on? He has received none of my calls or texts. He tells me today is the last day of the month and he was planning to pay me cash again at the end of the day. He is all concerned and apologetic. He wants to know what number I have been calling. It is not his number. I apologize profusely. He is relieved that there is not a problem. He thinks he shorted me $50.00 last month, so he will add it this month.
He asks if my friend is still moving in when the lease is up. No, I have told her she is too picky and it would ruin our friendship. I tell him the rent will be $50.00 more and to let me know if he is interested. I text his wife and thank her for helping me out. She says anytime. I am glad I didn't tell her about all the women he has over, which wouldn't be true, but I would go out of my way to make his life difficult. I am relieved, but my stomach is still in knots and I feel sick.
I was worried about my dogs, that they would be used for retaliation. I had a renter who took my cat for a ride. I found out what a miserable life Frank had suffered as a result. I was afraid my dogs would be poisoned, run over by this guy going too fast in the driveway, or let out of the gates and get hit by a car. They could be dropped off somewhere and I would never see them again or they would die a cruel death. I hate the idea of supervised outside time and keeping them inside if I am gone all day. They love being outside as much as I do. My dogs are my Xanax. My dogs are my people.
Thursday, May 12, 2016
The Poisoning of a Dog
Gramma
My daughter texted me that her dog, Petra, had died. She was a sweet brindle pit bull who endured a lot of shit over her eleven years. My daughter got her used. She married a man who had no idea how to treat an animal with dignity, respect and love. The dogs cowered at the non-stop yelling and threat of physical abuse. But every day was a new slate and Petra and her friend Huxley always greeted him with happy tails and barking conversation.
My daughter had cervical cancer and can't have children. Her dogs are her babies. During one abusive tirade, her spousal unit held Petra up over his head and body slammed her on a ceramic tile floor. Then he took my daughter's keys so she couldn't take her to the vet, because he didn't want to get in trouble. Asshole. Petra limped for a long time. Then she came here to stay for awhile.
She really blossomed in a home with no yelling, no beatings, no stress. She would play with my dogs all day, then come inside exhausted and happy. She was so funny, trying to stuff her now fat self into a too small dog bed. She would sleep there curled up, looking like an overfilled muffin. But my neighbor did not like her ferocious barking at him. She had a good sense of character.
So Petra went back to Colorado, where I am sure she was sad because she couldn't run free with her friends. She had put on some weight. When she first came here, I told the grandkids to be nice to her because she had a hard life and needed to be loved. They fawned over her.
Due to some horrid circumstances that left my daughter homeless, Petra had to live with her abuser for awhile. My daughter would pick her up for a day or two on weekends when she could. Petra developed an ear infection that was ignored. By the time my daughter saw it, the ear had partially rotted. The vet had to remove most of it. Really, I could kill this fucker.
My daughter finally got a place of her own and took the dogs back. They were thin and nervous, afraid of their own shadows. They had been pooping in the house and throwing up. It was likely that they had not been taken outside regularly.
I can imagine my daughter's reaction to Petra's death. She was taken to the vet for a tox screen. She had been poisoned with strychnine while at the dog park. A dog belonging to a thirty year veteran of the police department had also been poisoned at the same park. The vet donated the cremation. The police department paid for the tox screening. A neighbor who does dog rescue called the news station to make the public aware.
I am sad for Petra, my daughter and Huxley who is confused by his friend's absence. My daughter reiterated how she hates people. I have the same reaction at the same moment when we exchanged texts. Dogs are family to us. They don't hurt your feelings and are always bringing love. The POS who did this better hope my daughter doesn't find him. I hope she doesn't find him. I don't want to visit her in jail.
My daughter texted me that her dog, Petra, had died. She was a sweet brindle pit bull who endured a lot of shit over her eleven years. My daughter got her used. She married a man who had no idea how to treat an animal with dignity, respect and love. The dogs cowered at the non-stop yelling and threat of physical abuse. But every day was a new slate and Petra and her friend Huxley always greeted him with happy tails and barking conversation.
My daughter had cervical cancer and can't have children. Her dogs are her babies. During one abusive tirade, her spousal unit held Petra up over his head and body slammed her on a ceramic tile floor. Then he took my daughter's keys so she couldn't take her to the vet, because he didn't want to get in trouble. Asshole. Petra limped for a long time. Then she came here to stay for awhile.
She really blossomed in a home with no yelling, no beatings, no stress. She would play with my dogs all day, then come inside exhausted and happy. She was so funny, trying to stuff her now fat self into a too small dog bed. She would sleep there curled up, looking like an overfilled muffin. But my neighbor did not like her ferocious barking at him. She had a good sense of character.
So Petra went back to Colorado, where I am sure she was sad because she couldn't run free with her friends. She had put on some weight. When she first came here, I told the grandkids to be nice to her because she had a hard life and needed to be loved. They fawned over her.
Due to some horrid circumstances that left my daughter homeless, Petra had to live with her abuser for awhile. My daughter would pick her up for a day or two on weekends when she could. Petra developed an ear infection that was ignored. By the time my daughter saw it, the ear had partially rotted. The vet had to remove most of it. Really, I could kill this fucker.
My daughter finally got a place of her own and took the dogs back. They were thin and nervous, afraid of their own shadows. They had been pooping in the house and throwing up. It was likely that they had not been taken outside regularly.
I can imagine my daughter's reaction to Petra's death. She was taken to the vet for a tox screen. She had been poisoned with strychnine while at the dog park. A dog belonging to a thirty year veteran of the police department had also been poisoned at the same park. The vet donated the cremation. The police department paid for the tox screening. A neighbor who does dog rescue called the news station to make the public aware.
I am sad for Petra, my daughter and Huxley who is confused by his friend's absence. My daughter reiterated how she hates people. I have the same reaction at the same moment when we exchanged texts. Dogs are family to us. They don't hurt your feelings and are always bringing love. The POS who did this better hope my daughter doesn't find him. I hope she doesn't find him. I don't want to visit her in jail.
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
Mother's Day
Gramma,
My Mother's Day was sunny and warm, a perfect day for being outside. Before Dave left for his mother's, he took the time to take the snow blower and cab off the tractor so I could do my favorite thing, mow lawn. By now the lawn needed baling. It hasn't rained in a while, so there's a huge fire danger and mowing is dusty work, so I don't have a beer in hand. Smoke from the fire in Canada has reached this far south and there is an air quality advisory.
My bonus mom was on her way out the door when I called. We will talk tomorrow. I have talked to my girlfriend, who is having breakfast with her son. She plans to have a talk with him about how something he did hurt her feelings. She is justified. When I asked another girlfriend how her day was, she said, "A good Mother's Day is when they don't show up." So this is how it is for some of us, not a day of pampering, thanks and gifts.
My second eldest son called in the morning. He is not doing anything in particular today, but he is not coming over. I know not to expect a card or gift. But, I hit him up for things I need done as birthday, Mother's Day, or Christmas gifts. This year I asked him to install a new ceiling fan in the rental unit. It will take him less than an hour to swap out the fans, but it is a two person job. The ceiling is vaulted and we need two tall ladders.
I ask him what he got his pregnant wife for Mother's Day. Basically, nothing. He has offered to make her dinner. What a GUY. He is like his father, who told me that I was not his mother, so don't expect a gift. The kids should always go with their father to pick out something from them to her, but my ex has set the standard. I often help the kids make her something, but didn't get to it this year.
My eldest is coming over to cut up a few downed trees that are blocking my trail into the woods. Even though he is pretty dependable, I don't hold my breath. It's an hour drive and I know he will do it another day if necessary. I am used to being alone on holidays, if not physically, emotionally. It's just another day to do laundry, cook, clean and take care of necessary things.
My daughter texted that she would try to call later. "Later today, or later this year?" Dave quipped. Exactly. She did not call. Maybe I will get a late card. Meanwhile, I make a turkey breast, potato salad, and fresh bread for sandwiches in case anybody shows up. I am happy to mow lawn and drink three beers, one for each of my children.
My eldest brought his girlfriend and her daughter. He brought me the gift of his mending. We had a nice visit. As he was leaving I said, "You make me happy twice, when you come and when you go." We laugh because we know it is true and without malice. I spend the rest of the day with my dogs, who never hurt my feelings and are always concerned about how I am doing.
My Mother's Day was sunny and warm, a perfect day for being outside. Before Dave left for his mother's, he took the time to take the snow blower and cab off the tractor so I could do my favorite thing, mow lawn. By now the lawn needed baling. It hasn't rained in a while, so there's a huge fire danger and mowing is dusty work, so I don't have a beer in hand. Smoke from the fire in Canada has reached this far south and there is an air quality advisory.
My bonus mom was on her way out the door when I called. We will talk tomorrow. I have talked to my girlfriend, who is having breakfast with her son. She plans to have a talk with him about how something he did hurt her feelings. She is justified. When I asked another girlfriend how her day was, she said, "A good Mother's Day is when they don't show up." So this is how it is for some of us, not a day of pampering, thanks and gifts.
My second eldest son called in the morning. He is not doing anything in particular today, but he is not coming over. I know not to expect a card or gift. But, I hit him up for things I need done as birthday, Mother's Day, or Christmas gifts. This year I asked him to install a new ceiling fan in the rental unit. It will take him less than an hour to swap out the fans, but it is a two person job. The ceiling is vaulted and we need two tall ladders.
I ask him what he got his pregnant wife for Mother's Day. Basically, nothing. He has offered to make her dinner. What a GUY. He is like his father, who told me that I was not his mother, so don't expect a gift. The kids should always go with their father to pick out something from them to her, but my ex has set the standard. I often help the kids make her something, but didn't get to it this year.
My eldest is coming over to cut up a few downed trees that are blocking my trail into the woods. Even though he is pretty dependable, I don't hold my breath. It's an hour drive and I know he will do it another day if necessary. I am used to being alone on holidays, if not physically, emotionally. It's just another day to do laundry, cook, clean and take care of necessary things.
My daughter texted that she would try to call later. "Later today, or later this year?" Dave quipped. Exactly. She did not call. Maybe I will get a late card. Meanwhile, I make a turkey breast, potato salad, and fresh bread for sandwiches in case anybody shows up. I am happy to mow lawn and drink three beers, one for each of my children.
My eldest brought his girlfriend and her daughter. He brought me the gift of his mending. We had a nice visit. As he was leaving I said, "You make me happy twice, when you come and when you go." We laugh because we know it is true and without malice. I spend the rest of the day with my dogs, who never hurt my feelings and are always concerned about how I am doing.
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