I had a great idea for a post. Whatever it was left my head. Really good ideas come flooding back about 2:00 AM or after I’ve just sent a post to my blog. If I was more ambitious, I would jot the idea down, but I don’t. I have notebooks everywhere and forget to use them.
Several people I know have super-duper new phones they talk to. For example, this week when I saw my GP, he whipped out his phone and spoke the name of a book he recommended and it popped right up. Ditto Eddie who dug out our cars last week. He came to the door, said he was walking to the grocery store and asked if we wanted something. I said we could use some milk. He took out his phone and said “milk” into the speaker. Wow. One of the granddaughters just bought a new phone. Her Mom says she’s making payments on it…like a car payment. Wow.
I bought a new pair of blue suede shoes this week.
Talking with my sister yesterday, I discovered our brother had another heart attack. A friend called from the hospital to inform her. “I think that’s number six,” says she.
The backstory on our brother is that he dropped out in the sixties and has been afflicted with a substance abuse problem for many years.
Sister spoke with him while he was hospitalized and he told her she could find him “working” on a nearby thoroughfare. Apparently he panhandles there. Sister thinks he lives in one of the nearby shelters. It’s a way of life for some.
Brother spends his “free” time in libraries reading the papers. He will argue politics with you until you are exhausted. He once told a neighbor of mine from Nebraska who grew up on a ranch, that they had no business raising cattle there.
Granddaughter Hannah had an unpleasant experience last year when three people crashed her place and sponged off her for months, one of them, a former college roommate who became a nurse and then quit her job after a year or so because she didn’t like working and paying taxes. I met the girl on several occasions and liked her, but I was shocked to discover she had strayed so far.
The threesome told Hannah they were “working” (I use the term loosely) their way to Oregon and crashing with people along the way. It’s a way of life for some.
Before David retired as an addiction counselor (his third career), he counseled several people who lived under one of our local bridges, one of them a “well-known” author according to David. Apparently, this fellow had been “out there” for several years and his family hired David to conduct an intervention. Among the people participating was the man’s publisher who told him he would publish nothing else the man wrote if he didn’t get his act together. Sometimes David’s interventions worked and sometimes they didn’t. In this case it didn’t.
American Kestrel, a very small bird of prey
Demogogue – Politician who lies to idiots and promises things he knows he can’t deliver – H.L. Mencken