Month: September 2014

  • pat

    Still going over scenarios. Nervous stomach all day.

    Spent some time outside while Mary was at mass.


    First yellow canna. Weren't any last year.

    For lunch, we tried the frozen Freschetta gluten-free pizza with pineapple and Canadian bacon. Not bad.

    We watched A Night in Old Mexico (2014) from Netflix. Spanish language option. Robert Duvall has the crotchety old Western/Southern geezer character down pat. Carried the movie.

    76.9 °F, partly cloudy.

  • matters

    Riddle sent over a lady for the keys to #4.

    Andrea with Harrison.

    Mother with Harrison.


    Rotisserie chicken for lunch, with squash casserole, corn on the cob, tomato and small whole potatoes. Watermelon appetizers.

    Rummy was good, as long as it lasted. Delores picked up Marion early. Then, Anna brought over Leah.

    Mary, Marion, Andrea, Harrison and Mother.

    Two-year-old Leah was a hoot, as always. Thought her great-grandmother's new walking stick was a microphone.

    Karaoke time.

    Some matters being settled, I'm feeling better.

    117 lbs.

    83.2 °F, partly cloudy.

  • plunging


    Not well. Tormented.

    More of Mary's soup for lunch.

    In Walmart, waved at Larry Barlar. Mary ran into Jilberto, Spanish minister at East Commerce Baptist. (see post 06-06-2012)

    Jilberto and Mary.

    Our bathroom sink has been stopped up and Mary broke her plunger. Thought we picked up one in Walmart, but realized we hadn't when we returned home. Off to Dollar General for another.

    Call from Michael Riddle. Dallas Engineering Products, formerly Designed Conveyor, then Talos Engineering Products, needs additional space. He's to pick up a key to #4 tomorrow.

    80.3 °F, clear.

  • can't

    Mary has been much taken with the deer and turkeys that have become daily visitors early and late.


    Hamburger patty topped with nopal for lunch, and accompanied by squash casserole, yuca and tomato. Guava juice on the side. Cantaloupe appetizers.

    The Amayas came for a brief visit. Victor needed a loan of $200 to pay his car insurance.

    Mary, Miriam and Victor.


    Mary and I watched 22 Bullets (2010) from Netflix. French with English subtitles. Retired hitman who can't get away from the business. Ideal vehicle for Jean Reno.

    George came by with a check from Equi-Tech for Mother's account. All dejected. Told me what he had feared, happened. :-( He offered nothing more on the topic. Neither did I. After he left, I wished I had at least asked him if he had decided yet what to do. Would have been more supportive.

    Can't let it get a hold on me and drag me down.

    78.2 °F, partly cloudy.

  • poltergeists

    Slid myself this morning from my bathtub stool onto the tub edge, but kept on going, head first. Unsettling reminder of my diminished muscle mass.

    After a weekend and holiday without the Durango starting, Co-op is finally open. So, guess what. This morning, the Durango started up as pretty as you please. Sigh.

    Poltergeists are having a field day with my car, my scooter and my TV remote. I could be left stranded in Nashville, Winchester or other distant location, should they choose. Furthermore, a little knot in my right hip feels suspiciously like a hernia. Yet, I remain tranquil. The heaviest burden no longer weighs on my mind.

    Cheerios with plump raspberries for breakfast.


    Catfish for lunch, with yuca, spinach, tomato and leftover acorn squash. Guava juice on the side. Pear appetizers.

    Chilled with two episodes of my South Pacific Blu-ray.

    82.5 °F, clear.

  • filets

    Blood oxygen peaked at 98% this morning. No wonder I'm feeling well.


    Tilapia for lunch with bounty from George's garden: sautéed yellow squash, stewed acorn squash, steamed okra and sliced tomato.

    With the pop, pop, pop all afternoon, I figured nephew Todd was target practicing. But, no. I scootered down to the edge of the field this evening to where three pickups were parked. George, Bill Spence, Terry Tucker and a couple of young fellows I didn't know had just finished shooting quail. David Philpot had stopped to see what was going on. Bill Spence had acquired some catfish recently and, under the direction of more experienced folk, carved up some filets for me and Mary. :-)

    Terry helps Bill filet a catfish. David and George observe. Some young fellow gets a closer look.

    "A country boy will survive." -- Hank Williams, Jr.

    82.3 °F, clear.

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