Snowstorm's A Comin'

Here comes the forecasted snow
Looks like it’s gonna be a real big blow
All the weather girls and boys
Are making lots of scary noise
Every channel has the story
NOAA’s in its warning glory
Our governor has a real good plan
The snow plow driver’s name is Stan

Look at all the grocery stores
People knocking down the doors
Milk and meat and loaves of bread
A block of cheddar cheese to shred
Don’t forget the Quaker oatmeal
This dang place is sure surreal
Every Wilma Joe and Jane
Is rushing to the quick check lane

Gas stations all are really busy
Drug store clerks are getting dizzy
Panic’s rising shoulder high
Gotta find some stuff to buy
Shovels, gloves, flour and salt
Some liquor made with good old malt
Supplies are now safely in place
No more need to rush and race

With a little bit of Frenchman’s luck
Plows will all get soundly stuck
Then when Monday rolls around
We’ll still be sweetly hunkered down
With no particular place to go
Just looking out at all the snow
Maybe stay beneath the covers
Acting like two young lovers

RESOLVED - NOT THIS YEAR

So a new year is well under way. Of course a new year doesn’t mean that all the old problems of the past just immediately disappear. That applies to national, local and personal problems. There’s probably a much better chance of solving those personal problems with the focus that a new year can bring than the problems looming in all those governmental institutions. Barack Obama, Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid, Joe Biden and Barney Frank aren’t going to disappear overnight. Sadly. Neither will our esteemed governor or any of the other corrupt and crooked, or just plain moronic, folks that populate the halls of Congress, the State House or other government buildings. So for 2010 we just have to try and vote out as many of those errant souls as possible and make as many changes towards common sense and realistic thinking as we can. The hope for a more conservative and intelligent governance is still here but it dims. It dims.

I don’t make New Year’s Resolutions. They are promises made to be ignored so I don’t bother. Oh, I could resolve to lose weight, exercise, be more charitable, and do a better job of yard maintenance and a hundred other things. But I won’t. One year, a long time ago and far, far away, I made a few resolutions. And that year I actually stuck to that resolve for most of the year. But the Holidays came around and everything went to hell (or heck, for you sensitive types) in a matter of days. The weight came back on like magic, the over-spending was fast and furious, the beating of the wife started up again. All those resolutions were like clouds blowing away on a summer’s day. You probably know I didn’t really beat my wife. And I never made a resolution not to. That’s all fiction. But the rest of it is true. So the following New Year’s Day I decided to scrap the resolution idea for good. And I’ve stuck to that for years now. I guess I can keep one resolution after all.

Looking back at 2009 I must say it was a pretty good year in many ways. A new granddaughter, continued retirement, many opportunities to enjoy our little place up North have all been bright spots. Continued family stability has also been nice. My wife and I celebrated our fortieth anniversary and came out of it unscathed. We stayed in touch with many more members of our extended families than we had in the past and that has been a big plus. My wife’s job has not made her any crazier or crankier than she normally is so that’s been nice. I’ve gotten pretty well adjusted to her normal levels of craziness and crankiness. My Mom turned eighty-eight and is still doing pretty well. Somehow all of my siblings have either lost their hair or are using extensive chemical treatments to keep it looking young while I have kept mine and relish the silvery grey look. My writing has become more directed towards poetry which has greatly diminished my readership while allowing me the freedom to put sexy stuff in my work without worrying about offending relatives and friends.

Of course there were sad events in 2009 as there are in most years. We lost our brother-in-law, my wife’s sister’s husband, a fine and funny fellow with a unique personality. Some of the older members of the family faced tough battles with medical problems as did some of the younger family members. It was a normal year, I guess, although it was a little tougher economically for many of us. There’s a whole political rant waiting to be written about the detrimental personal effects that government policy is causing but I’ll save it for another day.

We’ll plug along through this year as we have in the past, taking one day at a time and making the most of what life brings along. Wow, I put three clichés in one sentence. I should be a news reporter. Anyway we’ll do okay and we hope you all do as well. No matter what happens we hope you…

Have a fine day.

CHRISTMAS TIME'S A COMIN'

Christmas is only three days away now. I guess it’s time to start my annual shopping trek. Actually this year my wife, knowing the tendency I have to buy useful and practical gifts like wheelbarrows and vacuum cleaners, gave me a list. She told me to stick to the list or else. It kind of kills my youthful spontaneity but I’ll follow along. Better that than losing other privileges.

We had a big old snowstorm here in Delaware over the weekend. It was a major tragedy for the merchants and shoppers due to the high level of incompetence our government agencies have when it comes to planning for and executing snow removal. I heard on the radio this morning that the state budget allows for one eight inch snowfall per winter. This storm dumped as much as two feet in some areas. The smaller communities seem to follow a similar plan. Consequently the state and municipalities are three times over budget for the year. What a bunch of morons.

It wouldn’t be quite so bad if any of the plow drivers had ever learned how to use their equipment. I’m pretty sure that there are controls in the trucks that allow for raising and lowering the plow. Apparently the drivers are unaware of that feature because they can’t seem to get the plow down low enough or, when they come to an intersection, they can’t seem to raise it to avoid burying that intersection in a two foot high ridge of heavily packed snow. I’ve seen convoys of three plow trucks followed by a pick-up with flashing lights (that’s just in case drivers can’t see the flashing lights on the plow trucks) go down a single lane of a three lane highway and miss so much snow that the following pick-up truck got severely stuck. So they all stop to get that pick-up loose then they all seem to forget to lower their plows as they start up again. It’s as if the three stooges were doing all the plowing in this neck of the woods. Sad, sad, sad.

Sorry about that rant. I tend to think that our tax money would be better spent sending the entire population of the state on a two week trip to Disneyland when a storm is approaching. By the time we all got back the snow would be melted and no one would be angry, frustrated or dead. It would probably be cheaper as well.

As I said Christmas is almost here so I’d better turn on the old “good will to men” (and women). This year our youngest daughter will be going with her fiancé to visit some of his folks out in Chicago. This is the first year our little family won’t all be together. But we’ll have a second celebration when they come over on New Years weekend. Meanwhile my wife’s sister, her daughter and one of her great-grandkids will be with us on Christmas day. And of course our older daughter and her family will be here. So we’ll have an appropriate group to continue the tradition of loud and confusing events. As a matter of fact when my dear sister-in-law and my wife get together the decibel level in the neighborhood will jump by about sixty or seventy percent. But we’ll have fun and the kids will be wired enough to keep everything interesting. I personally plan on having a sufficient amount of adult beverage on hand to keep myself mellow.

So to all of you, family and friends, scattered across this country and even in some others, we wish you a Merry Christmas. Enjoy the celebrations however you make them. If you are religious then enjoy the pageantry and holiness that are so prevalent in your churches at this time of year. If you aren’t religious, then call someone who is and thank them for getting this whole thing started two thousand plus years ago. Maybe they weren’t there at the time but they’re helping to keep it all on track as much as they can. And while you all celebrate think about the importance of kindness and families and traditions. It’ll help to keep you on the right path as you move into the new year. And have a Happy New Year too.

And also have a fine day.

A North Country Christmas Party: Short fiction

When I arrived at the party and looked the house over I knew it was going to be the same old pretentious crowd from the University standing around, eating bad tasting gourmet food, drinking heavily and talking about mortgages and retirement plans. I was the guest of my friend the English Department chair, a guy who occasionally read and criticized my poetry. But the nature of the party changed in an instant when the door opened behind me and Alvin, Jacques and a lady entered the room. Alvin and Jacques are two woodsmen I had spent time with recently learning about small scale logging and bear hunting. I was wondering how they had managed to get an invitation to this party when the head of the University Forestry and Agriculture Department, Doctor Farquahr, waddled up to the new arrivals.

He greeted Alvin and Jacques in a rather formal way, thanking them for being there to represent the local independent logging community, as if there was such a thing. Alvin introduced the lady who was accompanying him as his wife Clarrissa. Alvin and Jacques had cleaned up pretty well for the occasion. Alvin, a tall and lean eighty year old man with a wild head of silvery hair, wore a new flannel shirt buttoned to the top, heavy wool trousers held up by red, white and blue striped suspenders and a shiny pair of work boots. Jacques is a little younger, shorter and rounder than Alvin. He too had on a new red and black flannel shirt buttoned up tight under his chin. But he was a bit more sartorially resplendent in a pair of heavily starched khakis and highly polished expensive looking loafers. On his head he wore a relatively clean flannel hat with ear flaps tied up on top, known locally as a toque and pronounced to rhyme with “duke”. Both men had their best false teeth in place.

Clarissa, Alvin’s fourth wife, is a fifty something blond lady of solid stature. She has steely blue eyes and a serious nature but is known in our little hamlet as a generous and caring soul who, on occasion, can have a very good time. She was wearing her finest holiday bright red sweat suit, emblazoned with a picture of Santa Claus and decorated with enough beads and sequins to make old Liberace blush. The last time I had seen her she was decked out in her firefighting gear hosing down a burning truckload of wood pulp and ordering around half a dozen of her mildly drunk young firemen. She’s been our volunteer fire chief for several years and runs the department with an iron fist. I was anxious to see how the crowd at this party would react to this politically conservative outspoken lady.

Doctor Farquahr was introducing his special guests around as if they were a trio of orangutans. Alvin and Clarissa were being polite and personable but I could see that Jacques wasn’t enjoying himself at all. It’s a good thing Jacques speaks out less than the hero of a Clint Eastwood spaghetti western or he would have been a little less pleasant to the fawning academics he was meeting. But finally the introductions were over and the three mountain folk were let loose to mingle, eat and drink. They drifted to the bar that was set up at the end of the large room that housed the indoor swimming pool. I was leaning on a fake palm tree near the bar when I heard Alvin ask for two double shots of Old Farmhand and a Genny Light. The young lady that was tending the bar told Alvin that she had never heard of Old Farmhand and, although she had heard of Genesee Light Beer they didn’t have that one either. Alvin told her that Old Farmhand was made about fifty miles south of the college at a small family distillery and brewery. But since the bartender didn’t seem all that interested in this point of local interest Alvin asked for two doubles of Wild Turkey and a bottle of the Saranac Lager that he spotted in the cooler. He handed Clarissa the beer and one of the glasses of whiskey to Jacques.

He and Jacques tossed back the whiskey and plunked their glasses down for a refill. The bartender started a little speech about drinking responsibly but Alvin cut her short saying that Clarissa was the designated driver and he knew all about DUI’s. She refilled the two glasses which both men drank down without pause. They plunked the glasses down again. The bartender was getting a little nervous about another refill so Clarissa stepped up and asked her to put some ice in the glasses, pour the refills and they wouldn’t bother her again for a little while. Alvin and Jacques weren’t too happy about having their whiskey diluted with melting ice but they knew they shouldn’t get Clarissa riled up so they went along with her plan.

I chatted with Alvin for a few minutes, inquiring as to the circumstance that brought him to this party. Alvin and Clarissa live about thirty miles away from the University town and Jacques lives next door to them. They don’t have much to do with the town unless they need to argue with tax appraisers or file lawsuits at the county court house. Once a month or so they might head up to do a little shopping but they are self sufficient folks who grow, fish or hunt most of their own food. Alvin said that the Forestry Department was doing research on the effects of small logging operations in the mountains. The researchers were hoping to prove that Alvin, Jacques and others like them were harming the ecology. So far the results were not so good for proving the theory. Alvin said that for every mature tree the loggers cut they plant anywhere from three to ten seedlings. He also said that all the small loggers were careful about erosion and working too closely to small streams and rivers. But the University guys still wanted to do some more studying so Farquahr was making nice and invited Alvin and Jacques to this shindig.

Jacques somehow indicated he was hungry. I never heard him say a word but Alvin and Clarissa both said that it was a fact and we all headed to the buffet tables set up in the dining room. Clarissa was looking around the house which had an open floor plan and the few rooms we were in must have totaled about three thousand square feet. I thought she would make a comment about this being too much for a person to clean but instead she said that the Feng Shui of the place was all wrong and that Farquahr and his wife would probably get divorced someday soon. I asked Clarissa where she learned about Feng Shui and she said that even though they lived in the hill country they did have books and satellite television.

As they looked over the wide array of gourmet offerings attractively displayed on the buffet tables it was clear that only Clarissa had a clue as to what most of the dishes were. She pointed out the little signs with the names of the dishes and translated for the two puzzled men. There were chutneys, baked brie with currants and walnuts, vegetable dips made from squash and mangos, several kinds of exotic olive spreads, caviar in black and red, funny little balls that appeared to be either meat or fish but smelled like fruit and some rolled up cheese things that smelled like sewer gas. Alvin said that Jacques wanted to know where the meat, potatoes, macaroni and cheese and green beans were. Clarissa said this wasn’t the fire hall or a St. Polycarp’s Church fundraiser so they’d better just shut up and try a couple of these dishes. She filled her tiny plate with a few of the tidbits she recognized from the cooking shows and found a place to sit down. The men joined her after exchanging many quizzical looks. When Mrs. Doctor Farquahr came over and asked if they had plenty to eat Clarissa was the only one who responded with “Yes, and it’s all so interesting.” Alvin just chewed slowly and thoughtfully and Jacques rolled his eyes.

A young fellow approached the trio as they were finishing up the buffet delicacies and engaged Alvin in a discussion about global warming and how small loggers were contributing to the problems. Clarissa looked alarmed and Jacques jaws were beginning to tighten drawing his lips into a deep and disturbed frown. Alvin told the young man, who had a pompous and irritating accent not unlike Al Gore’s, that he was unaware of any real research that would support that opinion. Alvin went on to tell the man, who turned out to be an associate professor of alternative energy studies, that both he, Jacques and many of the folks that lived down in the mountainous areas were greener than anyone in this crowd. Alvin was worked up now. He said that at his home he used solar, wind and water power and was in no way hooked up to any public utilities. Jacques was now standing close by with narrowed eyes and his hands were clenched into tight fists. Alvin went on, in ever an increasing volume that was drawing a lot of interest from the other guests, about how he and people like him respected Nature and did more to really preserve and defend it than any bunch of big bellied bureaucrats in all the universities and governments of the world. Clarissa was squirming now and doing all she could to steer her companions towards a graceful exit.

Since I knew there were a few animal activists in the crowd I casually asked Alvin how the deer season was going this year. He said he and Jacques had filled their freezers on their licenses and the tags of a couple other hunters from the city who didn’t even know how to butcher what they killed. That started a tirade about deer herd management and how those desk jockeys in Albany had no clue about the dangerous increase in game populations in the North Country. The animal folks were all ears and red faces now. But Clarissa had moved to the front door and Alvin and Jacques were following along. There was silence in the room as the university folks digested more than the gourmet snacks. Clarissa bade a friendly farewell to the Farquahrs and shoved the men out the door.

I was thinking about taking my leave as well when Doctor Farquahr came up to me and said “Well I never! Those people have no clue about the real problems of the world.” I said “Actually they do sir. They make a living in a beautiful but harsh area. They don’t depend on any government for assistance. When trouble arrives neighbors pull together and help each other. And they care for the land and the future of the forests more than all the researchers here at the college. So I’d say they have a clue.” And with that I excused myself and headed to my truck. I figured my three friends would be heading to the Riverside Tavern for a beer and I intended to join them.

Have a fine day.

BIRDWATCHING 102

At the risk of being a little repetitious I’m going to tell you all about another event sponsored by the Delaware Dunlins youth bird watching organization. I wrote about an event back in November which was excellent in every way. Today’s event exceeded that first one in several ways and was not so hot (literally) in one other. To get the bad part out of the way, it was wicked cold. Okay.

Today’s event was held at the Conowingo Dam in North Eastern Maryland on the Susquehanna River. Our guide was Derek Stoner who was ably assisted by several other adults. A large group of youngsters accompanied by parents and grandparents were in attendance and judging from the oohs and ahs I’d say everyone had a great time. Conowingo is THE place to view American Bald Eagles in the Eastern US. Today it was probably the best place in the world. We saw well over a hundred of the magnificent birds in all stages of their development except for babies. They flew, they perched and they fished. They lined up in the power station towers and on the rocks along the river. They swooped over our heads and sat in trees close by. It was a marvelous sight and the kids (including this sixty-two year old kid) were delighted.

But there was more. Great Blue Herons, thirty three of them, lined up along a rocky ridge. Vultures, including American Black Vultures, mingled with the eagles and the gulls. And there were several types of gulls represented including the large Black Backed variety. When the dam gates were raised and the river level went up by several feet the birds were all over the water in the hunt for the fish that came through. Nature provides shows for free that can’t be matched by any electronic medium. My grandson and his mother, who happens to be my daughter, shared some moments that far too many folks never experience. They will enjoy these memories and tell stories of these days long into the future.

Now let me repeat myself a little bit about Derek Stoner and his colleagues who are so involved in the youth birding activities. These folks care about Nature in ways that many so called ecological advocates can’t begin to emulate. Derek and his friends are hands on naturalists who seem to believe that the way to protect the environment in all its facets is to get out there and experience and learn about it. Then they introduce other people, young and old, to the joys that surround us in the Natural world. A person who has experienced a great day of observing how Nature works is much more likely to be an intelligent supporter of environmental causes. Today we saw one of the wonders of Nature next to one of the wonders created by people, a massive hydro-electric facility. There are ways to make it all work together. The kids out there on this cold afternoon learned more than they’re likely to learn in any classroom. And it’s because Derek and his associates don’t just care about Nature, they care about kids. And they care about the future that these kids represent.

So if you ever want to enjoy a really fine time in the outdoors, even if you don’t think you’d care to be a bird watcher, get hooked up with a group like the Delaware Dunlins. They’ll show you how exciting bird watching really is. You’ll meet some fascinating and very knowledgeable people of all ages. And you’ll share experiences that will live with you for the rest of your life.

And you’ll have a fine day.

FOLLOW-UP AND CHILL PILLS

A couple of weeks ago I told all of you, my faithful readers, about a medical procedure that I had involving the bottom end of my digestive tract. Yesterday I had my “results consultation” with my little Indian born doctor. There’s a character on the Simpsons that runs a convenience store. This doctor sounds just like that character only with a slightly higher pitched voice. He said “You had four polyps. Nothing to worry about. I cut them out. The biopsy was no problem. Except one maybe. But it grows quite slow. And, anyway, I cut it out.” His rather casual attitude towards growths in my colon did little to reassure me and I let him know that. He said “It is no problem. Three years, we look again. Meanwhile eat many vegetables. Bran, lots of bran. And you are entirely too fat. Lose weight. You are much too fat.” So I left his office vaguely reassured and slightly pissed off. I mean just because he’s a skinny little guy it doesn’t mean everyone else needs to conform to his body size. But I did stop and pick up a couple of different kinds of bran cereal. And some bran muffins. By the way isn’t polyp one of the silliest looking words in the language? How can something like that scare us so much?

Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Coincidently it is also my Mom’s eighty-eighth birthday. So we have that extra blessing to be thankful for. On Friday, while all the hardcore shoppers are out hunting down bargains at the “Black Friday” sales, I’ll be driving up to our place in the North Country. I’ve already planned out my “avoid malls at any cost” driving route. It may take an extra hour or so but it’ll be worth it.

With the official start of the Holiday Season comes all the extra pressure of trying not to get totally angry at the whole retail establishment as it puts on its “full court press”. We’re cutting down on the expensive gift giving this year. I am on a fixed income now, you know. So we’ll be doing a lot of Martha Stewart-like crap, you know, baking cookies or bread and wrapping it up as cheap gifts. The shopping that needs to be done I’m going to try to do online. Fewer incompetent clerks will suffer my wrath and we’ll all have a nicer time. This reminds me of an incident at my drugstore yesterday.

I called in a couple of prescription refills and selected a time for pick-up from the phone menu which was far enough out that I expected no problems about it being ready. When we got to the pharmacy counter (my dear wife made the mistake of joining me on the outing) the clerk said that there would be a few minutes wait. I kindly asked her why that was the case. I had called the thing in ten hours earlier, followed all the directions and really thought it should be ready. She shrugged her shoulders and supplied a blank look as a reply. So we wandered around the store for ten minutes or so and then my name was called. The clerk then told me that one of my prescriptions was incomplete because they were out of stock. They had five pills and the rest would be available “maybe tomorrow, maybe Friday”. I told her that I was going on a trip very early Friday morning and could she be more specific. She couldn’t. She wasn’t offering any solution so I told her to cancel the prescription. The Rite-Aid down the street was giving a ten dollar voucher to anyone who transferred prescriptions to that establishment. Again, her reply was a shrug of the shoulders and a blank stare. I don’t really expect a lot from today’s crop of retail clerks. But a simple apology or some sort of attempt at a solution to a problem would be nice. At that time I happened to spot a guy counting pills into a bottle. I asked the young clerk if the fellow was in fact the pharmacist in charge and, finally, she was able to answer a question. She said “yes”. When I asked her if she could arrange for me to talk to him for a moment she looked like I was asking for an audience with the Pope. But she got his attention and he came over. Since I didn’t want to make a big scene I told the pharmacist, in a calm and low voice, that his pharmacy service pretty much sucked. I explained the problem and he quickly took steps to solve it. The only thing he failed to do was fire the incompetent dummy who works the counter. When I returned to the pharmacy this morning the pharmacist spotted me as I was heading towards the counter. He immediately ran over with my complete prescription, apologizing profusely for the previous evening’s situation. Once again I told him that the only problem with his service was the clerk that couldn’t seem to provide any. In the spirit of the season I told him that he should let the poor girl go, but since I had all the pills I needed until after New Year’s, he could wait until after Christmas. There was no sense ruining the holidays for her and her two kids. (I just made that last part up) So I thanked the pharmacist and wished him Happy Thanksgiving.

And I wish you all the same thing and a fine day too.

THANKSGIVING: The Prelude

First there is the Plan. And from the Plan comes the List. The man of the house sits down with the woman of the house and together she decides what the plan for the big holiday will be. “Perhaps some non-traditional dishes” he suggests, “like roast beef or lasagna.” Vetoed. “How about a nice blackberry pie for dessert?” “No way!” she says. “Well, something different in the way of an appetizer maybe?” he ventures. “Nothing adventurous” she replies. So the absolute traditions are upheld and the man of the house graciously defers to the keeper of the Thanksgiving Rituals.

Plans are also considered for the rest of the meals for the week taking into account who will be where and when. With the Plan in hand an inventory of the pantry, freezer and refrigerator is conducted. This leads to a massive cleaning out of products that have reached somewhat beyond their expiration dates. This year we found pecans that were bought for last Thanksgiving, old pickles, salad dressing that expired in 2007, a can of cranberry sauce of the same vintage and various unidentifiable leftovers in un-openable containers. An assessment of the spice shelf shows that at least half of the little bottles are empty. Those that aren’t empty are things that we’ve used once or not at all. So after this entire painstaking process we write the List. It’s pretty easy because now that we’ve cleared out the old stuff we realize we need everything. So we go down to the bank and get a small personal loan. Just kidding. We have a credit card.

With List in hand we now make our plan of attack for shopping. The man of the house puts on his jacket, grabs the car keys and says “let’s go to Rednor’s Market”. The woman of the house says “Hold your horses big boy we have to go through the ads and the coupons first. We’ll find the best deals and go first to Safeway then to Acme then to Super Fresh and then we’ll end up at Rednor’s.” As she gathers all the ads and the big envelope of coupons the man of the house grabs a beer and sits down in his chair. Two days later we’re ready to shop.

Shopping on any weekend is an arduous experience. Shopping on the weekend before Thanksgiving is insane. By the time we’re halfway through the produce section at Safeway I’ve been pushed away from the celery, whacked by a shopping cart near the mushrooms and been cursed at by a little old lady because I was taking too long with the turnips. (Also known as rutabagas) So I turn control of the shopping cart over to my dear wife and I head for the coffee shop near the exit to join the twenty or so other men who are no match for the frenzied horde of women running around the store. An hour or so later my wife makes it through the check-out and we head for the next stop.

The whole process is repeated at the Acme supermarket. After three cups of coffee I need to head home for a pit stop. So we go home and we unload our treasures, and I unload my bladder. By now I’m pleading to my wife to make the next store our last stop. She takes pity on me and we head to Rednor’s.

At Rednor’s the crowd is pretty well behaved. We start through the aisles and I notice that yams here are thirty cents a pound cheaper than where we bought them. I point this unadvertised special out to my wife. A little further on I notice that the green beans are a whopping fifty two cents a can cheaper than Acme which supposedly had the best deal. I point this additional unadvertised special out to my wife. About seven or eight aisles later I’ve pointed out savings that we could have had if we had shopped here in the first place. My wife asks me if I’d be so kind as to go out to the car and get that little bottle of aspirin she keeps in the glove compartment and also to buy a bottle of water. She tells me to take my time and she’ll just finish up the shopping herself. Being the cooperative guy that I am I agree and go do her bidding.

Not too much later she comes out of the store and I ask her if she wants one aspirin or two. She says that she doesn’t need any right now because as soon as she sent me away her headache disappeared. Imagine that. Our grocery shopping is complete and we head home. We finally get everything put away and my wife checked her list. Then I notice she had a fresh piece of paper and she was writing things down. I asked her what was up and she said that there were a few things that I had failed to tell her to put on the list. So she told me that on Monday I would have to go pick them up. I told her that it was no problem, Rednor’s seemed to have the best deals.

Now we have a few days to get things lined up and prepared for the holiday. We usually start doing some of the preparations on Wednesday so that we have time to take me to the emergency room for stitches on Thanksgiving Day. No sense leaving everything to the last minute.

I’ll let you know how it goes this year.

Have a fine day.