I don't know if this girl is trying to come out, or if she's just more enlightened than her mother appears to be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm standing in line the other day at the grocery store, about 5:00 in the afternoon. In front of me is a rather tasty looking man buying a package of hamburger, buns and a 12 pack of beer. My kinda guy! Bet I know what his dinner is tonight.
I've put it off long enough. I've GOT to update my kitchen. New sink and faucet, new dishwasher...a whole bunch of shiny new stuff. Most of what I have now doesn't work properly, or leaks, or is just plain UGLY.
Last week, I'm in Home Depot, looking for a dishwasher.
In the appliance department, I spot a washer. It's in my price range, but it's got a stainless steel front. I would really prefer white.
I look around for a sales clerk.
Nobody.
I wander around for a few minutes, looking at the appliances.
6 or 7 minutes pass, a woman wearing an orange apron walks into the appliance area.
She sees me playing with the dishwasher, but keeps her distance.
My father is now in an assisted living home since performing a half gainer down the basement steps, breaking a hip and smashing his face to the tune of 12 stitches. He calls the place the assisted dying home, or The Prison. Thankfully, the home is only about a mile from Hell's Half Acre, so I'm able to go see him every day, and I call him at least once per day.
Physically, he's doing better than expected. He gets around pretty well with the aid of a walker. Emotionally, he's not doing very well at all. He's becoming depressed. I can't blame him. The home, nice as it is, is not home. Being there strips one of self esteem and independence, and on some days it takes a real toll on him.
My father is 86 years old. Almost 87. He's in fairly good health for someone his age, and gets around well. My mother died 15 years ago. He's lived alone since, taking care of the house, the car, himself, etc. He cooks his own meals, with some help from me and one of my brothers who lives nearby. My other brother lives part time in Georgia, part time in Branson, but is in town to see the old man about once per month or so.
He entertains himself by going to auctions and estate sales, and bringing home shit nobody wants.
I just bought a Berlitz German language course. When we go to Austria and Germany in June, I would like to be able to say a few words that aren't English. What the hell. It was only 20 bucks.
Three-day stubble-OR- why won't it grow on TOP of my head?
I didn't shave Wednesday.
I didn't shave Thursday.
Now it's Friday.
I didn't shave this morning.
I could blame my not shaving on being late for work, which is not entirely true.
More accurately, I just didn't want to do it.
I was sitting in front of the tv, scratching my itchy chin, watching Matt Lauer do his thing in London and just figured what the hell. I don't have any appointments today that would require a smooth face, so screw it.
At least it MAY be.
I haven't had a lot of time to write my annoying missives lately, so I've dug into the Yip Files for a couple of past posts that may (or may not) have been added to this blog. I hope I'm not repeating myself by putting the next few installments in here.
Just letting you know - you may get a feeling of deja vu when reading.
Back from the eye doctor.
I've never, in all my life, had my eyes examined. Interesting experience, that I'm not sure I want to go through again. It wasn't as invasive as the prostate exam I had a few weeks ago (that's a subject best not discussed in polite company, so I won't. I assume everyone reading this is 'polite'. I could be wrong.) but it wasn't a lot of fun. Bright flashing lights, looking through all sorts of complicated machinery, so forth. The interesting part was the Dr. (Insert a nice «oooooo!» here.) He was cute! Quite tall, about 6'3 or 4, I would guess.
I'm a sucker for tall guys. And, he had hair. Lots of it. Thick and wavy. (bastard!)
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