Wrap some more presents, and more stuff.
I sure don't want to join the mad and maddening crowds out there today.
Wonder if I'm passing up some good deals?

This morning after coffee, I happened to read:

"The NY Metropolitan Transit Authority is running 'vintage buses' from the 50s and 60s on the M42 crosstown route from 10am to 2pm."

Guess that's so old farts like me can relive their youth.
It's a bit early in the morning to be reminded you are now considered a relic. (smile if you're in this crowd).

As I was telling someone about this, she said:
"I was around in the sixties, does that mean I'm a 'relic' now too?".
I said: "No, you're just 'old' now."

Geez, you'd think some people would have a better sense of humor in the morning...
The lump in my arm may take a few days to do down.

Happy Birthday, NN.
And thanks to all that have made it fun all these years.

An article in the paper today stated:
"Kids’ success — and happiness — may depend less on perfect performance than on learning how to recover from setbacks and improve regardless of the obstacles."

I think that applies to most of mankind, not just kids.

Sometimes, if you're really lucky, only two trips to the hardware store are needed to finish a task.
(If this doesn't make sense, see a couple of entries below this one.)

I seem to have great news!
Apparently Propath, some kind of medical service or insurance provider has managed to achieve what has been up-to-now an impossible task.
My mother, who (although not in great health, - as obvious since she signed in and was provided medical services at a local clinic,) - is still apparently in decent shape and still kicking. What’s more, she ran up a medical bill of $500.

I am very much looking forward to learning more about this miracle, as I had thought I had laid her to forever rest in peace some nine years ago.

Assholes! Were I be able to find them I would be glad to put them in my mother’s present condition as I up-to-today known she is.
Meanwhile I think I better call the papers and local authorities and inform them of this miracle.

Corollary #24:

No trip to a hardware store is complete unless:
A second trip is made to exchange the wrong part for the right one, return the right part because you can't properly install it due to other conditions, or to get further information on installing said part.
A third trip is made to get something else you saw in your previous trips that you could find handy in the future.

Except for a nasty smoking habit that I keep telling myself I could shake, there aren't that many addictions I could be blamed of possessing.
That's of course not counting the many, probably hundreds of little annoying quirks many of us might have and those in the know could tell you about.
Along with that, I'm not that into pass-time activities or games like solitaire, tv, phone apps.
So why do I let other things go to hell? - Things that really need to be done - and continue to sit on my ass in front of the computer and keep bringing up that damn Free Cell game??!!!

Congratulations! You win!
Do you want to play again?

Damn you Bill Gates crew!
I'm sorry, did you say something? I was.....you know...playing that damn game!

I feel like celebrating.
It sounds melodramatic, but it’s pretty important to me.

The last few weeks the questions had come back and taken priority:
“What the hell can I do now to improve the chances my team and I survive this?” “What happens to the ones I feel responsible for?”

It wasn’t Nam and there was no one shooting. It wasn’t even cancer.
But after a long period of not feeling great, physical test readings had come back with big possibilities of bad news.
So off I went for the series of tests including stress tests.
I’m probably not the greatest patient and neither is my life style exemplary. (–And I know it.).
Nor do I enjoy jumping through others' hoops. That is done only when absolutely necessary.
Too much of a control freak to do that. So the blood pressure was through the roof while in that office.

But this morning the doctor caught me outside his office and told me the results are back, and they are good. “…Well, conditioning is going to help.” He said.
“Yes Sir!”


There won’t be any celebrating, I’m still working on getting better and well.
I’ll still have a chronic situation that hopefully can be controlled.
But right now, you ought to see the smile on my face. It’ll be ringed with sweat later.

Guest are sacred to me in my house.
One tries to make them feel at home, and tries to be always aware of their needs and wants, and hopes they will feel like returning.
They, in turn (usually) attempt to behave and make you feel glad they took the time to visit you.

I do try to fix, at least a good meal. Been told that I do and that I excel. Thank you!

It makes no sense to fix lamb chops, mashed potatoes and green beans and sliced almonds, a decent salad and bread with excellent wine and have it ruined by said guest expounding on heard-before-opinions and interrupting (something I detest) the host, and (almost) insulting others.
That makes for a fucking bore. A bore is a big, big, turn-off at any table. A female bore is unusually noted. Bores of any type are unacceptable in my table.

I don’t enjoy being a hypocrite. Yet one has to be sometimes lest I start tapping my wine glass and saying: “Excuse me!”
Best just to hope the said guest is not invited back regardless of the circumstances.

Yes, I am pissed and working on my third glass of wine.
They are (hopefully) leaving tomorrow.
I will miss their friendship. He will probably not be alive by the time for their next visit, and I will probably not be inviting her back.

Sorry for the vent. But there are limits!