Livin' in the loony bin

My mother is getting to be quite forgetful.

I took her to Fred Meyer a few days before my birthday. Every time I stopped to look at something, she wanted to buy it for me.

Finally, I said lovingly, "Mum, if you do that one more time I'm not going to bring you again."

Then, I tried on a pair of New Balance walking shoes. My feet felt like they had come home.

"Tell you what Mum, why don't you buy these for my birthday?"

She was very happy. It was a win/win situation. She got to buy me something and I got new shoes that I loved.

Every day since my birthday it has gone like this.

Mum: I need to get you something for your birthday.

Me: You did get me something, these nice walking shoes. I love them. Besides, my birthday was two weeks ago.

Mum: Oh. Well, I mean something nice.

Me: (silent, high-pitched scream) Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.

Every.

Day.

Did I mention my Mum is getting to be quite forgetful?

Did I tell you about my birthday shoes?

A friend told me that dementia is contagious.

He may be right.

Honouring those who honour the dead

Gibbs Cemetery this morning.

Sunday flowers

Memorial Day "pause for thought"

Another Memorial Day

Freedom Is Not Free 

Kelly Strong 
I watched the flag pass by one day. It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it,
and then he stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud,
He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought how many men like him
Had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' planes shot down?
How many died at sea?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No, freedom isn't free.

I heard the sound of TAPS one night,
When everything was still
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That TAPS had meant "Amen,"
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, freedom isn't free 

Now, go find a Memorial Day service near you.

A boy's life

Josh came over yesterday.

Here is a peek into his life.

The first thing he did after we arrived home was some schoolwork. The numbers 7, 8, and 9 received some solid attention.

Then on to the Happy Feet puzzle with Great Nana. Which has three missing pieces, to our disgruntlement. When I get some motivation, I shall pull apart the couch, vacuum it, and probably find missing puzzle pieces.

Lunch time. Banana, frozen blueberries, rice crackers...

...and fruited Jello.

Off to Jenny's house, where he played with his cousins while I had my first ever visit with a chiropractor.

Then he and GN did the toucan puzzle. Josh has as astounding amount of patience and tenacity when it comes to jigsaw puzzles. He will spend an hour on one puzzle, trying out pieces, turning them around to see if they fit.

Then, the Gorilla documentary while eating pistachios.

Now the couch really needs vacuuming.

Papa came home.

There was much excitement.

And another puzzle.

Watching the finches and blue jays through the front window.

Papa went for a run. After a while, I sent Josh and GN for a wee walk to get out some of Josh's wiggles . Meanwhile, I worked on concocting some dairy-and-gluten-free brownies for the boy.

I probably let the boy stay up too late, because right about the time I asked him to don his jammies, a switch flipped in his head. He pooped his pants, shut himself in the bathroom, and stayed there for an hour. First he was screaming, then silence, then he kept flicking the doorstop. Sproingggg, sproingggg. Then the door would open and quickly close again, over and over. Finally, he let me clean him up and put on his jammies. Then he had a screaming fit again so I put him to bed, without the brownies.

He woke up this morning much happier.

I asked him if he and GN were buddies now?

Nod nod.

And if she was one of his girls?

Nod nod.

Directly after breakfast, he ate brownies.

Silly signs

Off to the Sheriff's Office for my Concealed Handgun Licence.

Oh yeah!

I am always impressed by good spelling.

The sheriff's Office needs to try harder.

At least they apologized.

And, they got the apostrophe right.

I'll give it an A-.

So.

Paid the fee.

Got fingerprinted.

Let's see if the background check turns up any misdeeds.