Showers

Whooee. One inch of snow shower has closed the world all around us. Kids everywhere are rejoicing. There is no need to go out any further than on my balcony to enjoy the view. It surely is pretty first thing in the morning.

Whoopee. One of our unclaimed blessings has been claimed. Married her a man, she did. Now her feet can stay warm at night. A two-inch shower is planned.

Whopeedoo. A three-inch shower was given yesterday for the expected fraternal twins: a boy and a girl. Thought our administrative assistant was going to have to pay for the cake. I had decided to not let her do that and was going to split the cost with her. A last minute reprieve from the manager saved us both. Big crowd attended – more than for bingo, even. One of the great things about the over 60 crowd, they don’t have enough breath to ooh and aah over every opened gift.

BTW, the baby shower was for our Chef and his beloved. The three showers are neither connected nor consecutive.

AsA

Have you heard about the agnostic, dyslexic insomniac?
She took a sleeping pill and felt much better.

The Table

When I could no longer endure the cacophony at my favorite table in the back corner,
I looked around for a new place to enjoy my lunches. Spotting one near the front I moved there for peace and relative quiet. Franny thought I was a dirty-old-man (DOM) because I had sat with the other two “young” men at breakfast. They did not have stellar reputations. Unlike the real DOM, Mr. Wolf, who last bathed in 1999, I rather enjoy being a DOM.

Occasionally when the back corner table was full, Franny would sit with me down front. Despite my cherished reputation as a DOM, she enjoyed talking with me during meals. Many of us cannot hold a conversation beyond the menu and the weather. As time progressed, we became great friends who shared many stories over our meals. Her daughters became my extended family and I, theirs.

When she finally was confined to her apartment, two of her close friends joined me at “The Table.” Fine ladies; I enjoyed their company and would still. However, right after Franny passed on, two other women claimed seats at the table where I sit. It is not “my” table. They, too, are fine ladies. One of them can hear pretty well.

Yesterday, another woman made a comment about my “harem”. Guess I am back to being a DOM.

The angry phone call last week has prompted me to change my position. There is too much risk for revenge. After much thought and prayer I have determined that the situation at Windlands cannot be fixed. Henceforth, I will endeavor to avoid references to the management.

AsA

Remember to turn off your lapel mike when in the restroom.

The following post is based on an experience when I was 13 and had a Lexington Leader paper route.

“But, Dad …”

“I know you have been scared of dogs since you were thirteen when that dog jumped out of a car and bit you on the arm. You should have confronted your fear back then and taken care of what has now become a major phobia.”

“But, Dad …”

“I’ve talked with her owner and she does not even remember the incident it was so minor. In fact, she says that Precious has never attacked anyone.”

“But, Dad …”

“She has even agreed to helping with our little challenge. You just have to screw up your courage and walk by the open front door of her car – and nothing will happen.”

“But, Dad …”

“Besides, Precious is pretty elderly in dog years. She is too old to attack anyone. She said she would put Precious on the front seat of the car so you can walk by and conquer your fear. Look, there she is at the window watching and waiting for you to show your courage as a grown man. Go on. We will all be proud of you.”

“But, Dad …”

“Sometimes, I wonder if you have a single iota of courage. They should have named you after Leo, the cowardly lion. Let go of my arm! That hurts.”

“But, Dad …”

“Oh, alright, you namby-pamby, I will get out and walk to the front door to show that it is perfectly safe! If you do not walk up there after this, you are through as my son.”
(car door slams)

“See, perfectly safe. There is nothing to fear …”