January 04-

Dear aunt, who is 91, has broken her shoulder. Hospital has kept her for a mere 24 hours and sent her home. Wonder if she would be cheered by another visit from young policemen, and muse on new pretense to send them to her house. On further thought, decide it would be unwise, and shelve idea for future possible event.

Take visiting friends to Hoover Dam, which remains favorite of visitors. Dear friend has impish sense of humor and says in high voice, whenever guard passes by, ‘Jihad!’ Guard looks around at us suspiciously, and am prepared to pull out Purple Heart bought at flea market, and tell him story about time I saved one hundred men from certain destruction by throwing myself on live grenade. Guard, however, remains unclear as to who said what, and we continue with tour.

Pay visit to new doctor and clinic. Wait two hours to see doctor, but almost half of wait time is consumed by paperwork which could fill previously mentioned Dam. (Perhaps doctor believes paperwork has medicinal qualities? If so, where are these qualities located? They are certainly not for those patients who have carpal tunnel syndrome.)

At the end of it all, remain in dark as to whether I have consented to human experimentation or not. Paperwork has taken the time to ask me if I would consent to this, and informs me medical personnel is Looking Forward To It.  If I do consent, writers of paperwork can reassure me that I will be kept apprised as to Side Effects. Am grateful for their consideration, but reluctant to offer myself as blank slate for who-knows-what experiments.

In five more pages, I am also told that my Privacy is Protected At All Costs, unless there is a national emergency, or if the staff becomes bored and needs new topic for discussion during Coffee Breaks.

During end of waiting period, small boy arrives with mother, grandmother, and sister. Dear Wyatt, whose name is not difficult to ascertain, as Wyatt’s mother repeats it many times, proceeds to run over and over again through waiting room, and play loudly with sister. He and sister very sensibly ignore mother, who tells them many times to Stop That Right Now. (Motherhood seems to convey deafness in many mothers, and corresponding lack of hearing in children.)

Grandmother chimes in when she tells dear Wyatt that she will let everyone in waiting room beat him up. Spirits in waiting room rise like dough in warm room on hearing this, but are dashed when grandmother does not Follow Through. Remain hopeful that dear Wyatt will run close enough to me to be tripped, but this desire goes unfulfilled, as Wyatt evades my foot every time.

Wyatt’s sister watches traffic report on waiting room television, and tells her mother that she can see Daddy’s car from the air, amongst the fifty thousand other cars on freeway entering airport on ramp. Dad has either flown coop or is going to work and will be enjoying peace and quiet in airport terminal.

End day with quiet walk in park with dear Sugar, who begins to foam at the mouth from running without ceasing for an hour. Other park enthusiasts eye her warily, as if she may have rabies. Feel urgent need of lavatory while there, and have recourse to outhouse which is strangely placed in parking lot. Interior is all that one would expect and decide on rabies shot for myself after using it. Later, on leaving, see park’s regular restrooms, unnoticed before.

(Note to self: Practice being more observant in order to avoid life threatening situations in future.)

 

December 28-

Sign at pool informs me that water is 81 degrees, which does not fill me with confidence. Fears prove all too correct as legs have tendency to cramp during swim, no doubt from extreme cold, and I worry that lifeguard will feel need to intervene as I end each lap with undignified struggle. Lifeguard tells me that pool heater is broken. Heater worked at peak performance during days when outside temperature hovered at 110 degrees.

Don home by seven and just as he is being served bowl of chicken soup, phone rings. It is friend’s daughter who has been left by boyfriend at gatehouse of boyfriend’s mother, who is not at home, and daughter needs ride. This entails trip across town. After I sort out pronouns and think that I have grasp of situation, I ask where mother is, and Don says she is at casino, dancing. Stripping? I ask.

Dear Don gives me look suggesting that I have lost my mind, and says She is eighty. I reply that in Las Vegas Anything is Possible and we leave it at that.

Crock pot chicken soup a big success last week and is welcome again. Feel smug about cooking abilities which require nothing more than chopping some vegetables and throwing them with chicken in slow cooking pot. State of larder brings me down a notch, as celery and carrots are missing. Realizing I have put in sage instead of pepper brings me down another notch, but sage rather savory, on the whole.

Don is gone for two hours and on return, tells me that on arrival at gatehouse, daughter’s mother had finally arrived, making Don’s trip unnecessary. He then had flat tire on highway, and after repairing tire and starting home, discovered someone following him. Took precautions against possible thuggery on part of stranger, who turns out to be neighbor. (Am thankful no one else saw him lurking about behind vehicles in driveway.)

Story reminds me of other times when stranger was suspected of following one of us, the most recent being Don himself in customer’s car, trying to catch me to give me money. After zooming around corners, trying to shake villainous stalker, finally recognize Don at stop sign, as he gets out of car which has been following me. He is not pleased at impromptu chase around neighborhood.

The other instance of being chased recrudesces of road trip with dear friend to mountain town located in nearby state. Police dispatcher, a young woman in her personal car, pursued friend and myself around a parking lot. Dear mother had called local police in town where friend and I had traveled, because I had not checked in with her in timely fashion. She had tendency to kill and bury us if she had not heard from us immediately after arrival at destination.

Make plans later to set up Scrabble game, after first cleaning dust off top of box. Game has never been used, but was purchased entire year ago with fond visions of quiet, educational play with family members. According to stories inside box, Scrabble enthusiasts participate in Tournaments with other Dedicated Scrabble Players, and I reflect on harmony and unity of Other families.

(Warmly imagined moments fail to materialize due to each member of family having separate and compelling interests.)

 

 

December 21-

Dear Brandon tells me, when he comes home from work, that he has heard a story about a woman who was invaded by bot fly, now living in her leg. Fly lays eggs on mosquito, mosquito bites human, larvae burrows in, feels at home, and eventually pokes bot fly head out and looks up at woman, who screams and faints.

Woman is advised by doctor to wait until fly is fully formed and flies off on its own. Woman very sensibly objects to this course of action, and young fly is annihilated by suffocation with Vaseline and tape.  Fly is disposed of, but woman is still in shock. Am reminded of horror movies, but am forced to admire species’ abilities to survive in all conditions.

Finally keep appointment with eye doctor, as it has been three years since prescription for glasses was changed. While in the waiting room am told that if doctor provides prescription, I will be charged a Fee. Inquire of Young Thing who tells me this, Why Am I Here, if Not to Get a new Prescription? She tells me there will be no charge, and feathers are smoothed once more.

Another Young Thing gives me eye test, wherein I must read very small letters from seemingly great distance. Letters look like street signs on corners, and am suddenly apprised as to who designs them. It has been eye doctors all along, who managed to acquire street sign concession from cities all over the country.

Squinting only carries one so far, before glasses become necessary. Admire entrepreneurial spirit of eye doctors, who are not top priority for most people, unless they can no longer drive or see television.

I shout out final answers, as if Grand Prize will be mine should I get letters right, and regret not memorizing letters when I first saw them. Young Thing tells me had I not inquired if final letter was ‘F’, I may have gotten away with answer, and would have achieved 20/15 vision, at last.

Eye doctor makes his appearance and checks my eyes, relieving me of the worry that he is merely an Urban Myth, and only Young Things are running medical offices. He tells me that I will need eye surgery sometime in the future. When I demur, he asks my age, and when I tell him, he informs me that I have the eyes of a person ten years younger. Since he has just told me how old I am getting, am not sure whether to be gratified, or not.

Receive lengthy phone call that evening from young man at alma mater, who is fund-raising for institution to which I owe so many dollars, that I will be past 90 before it is paid. I listen to him politely, after telling him he is Wasting His Time, but he appears to want to finish a Script. I oblige him by not hanging up, but read book until he asks a question, to which my answer is invariably ‘No’. He persists in asking for lower and lower amounts, relating anecdotal evidence about the University, which is Doing So Much Good for So Many. Heart and mind remain Unmoved, and instead ask him if I may have some of My money back from the school.

Admire young man’s persistence nevertheless, and we sign off with mutual expressions of cordiality. Next day, I think of young man when I buy a piece of exercise equipment, and am glad he will Not Find Out about my perfidy. He asked me several times for equivalent of what we pay for exerciser.

(Query: Did I perhaps give up too easily in asking for money from school? Young man has obviously been trained in persistence, so there must be Something To It. When I call school, will be sure and tell them How Much Good I Have Been Doing in the World. Must make sure to Do Some Good before calling.)

 

 

December 14-

Extreme Prejudice towards Amazon overcomes me owing to not knowing proper way to input country dialing code of United States in application on website. Type various formats of personal telephone number in tiny boxes over and over for many hours. Am reminded of old saying, Doing Same Thing Over and Over is Definition of Insanity.

Send message to Support, begging that they enlighten me as to what is needed. Finally discover proper dialing code from search of internet. Problem not one of style, but of content. Dear Support answers next day with specific instructions to fill in Tiny Boxes. Since I mastered Tiny Boxes yesterday, Support’s answer, while no doubt sincere, now unnecessary and unhelpful. (Tiny Boxes should prove no problem for Little People.)

(During entire incident, other old motto recrudesces in memory, which was favorite of dear Mother’s: Patience Is A Virtue. This had immediate and undesirable effect of irritating me no end.)

Have never, to my certain knowledge, had to supply anyone with USA country dialing code, even when employed as flight attendant. Cannot fathom why Amazon would need to call me from another country. If it becomes necessary, they now have correct code.

Quite disgusted with whole thing, and have recourse to bottle of wine. (NB: Comfort and validation typically not provided by bottles of wine, but helpful for forgetting reasons for temper.) Tantrums when dealing with internet quite common.

(Query presents itself: Are we shortening our lives with stress-related frustration stemming from use of computers and technology purported to be life enhancing? Medical websites available to diagnose if symptoms occur).

Am right on time for lunch date with dear friend, who is watching for me from fourteen stories above the street. When I call her after some minutes have elapsed, she tells me she was looking for blue van, instead of green truck. Have not driven blue van for almost a year, and have picked her up in green truck at least three times since then, but beg her to come downstairs, anyway.

Afterwards, continue on to physical therapy as prescribed by doctor.  Sessions come to an end, and am still no further to understanding purpose of an activity that I could not only do at home, but one that manages to make me feel worse when I leave, than when I arrive. Actual manipulation and touching by Therapist occurs for five minutes out of each hour spent in clinic.

Am reminded of dear mother’s physical therapist, who showed up for fifteen minutes, had mother sit on edge of bed, circle her arms and legs, and then wave goodbye cheerily as she drove off in her new sports car. ( Therapy joins other employment choices as being one I Should Have Done, instead of having actually worked for a living.)

Leaf-peeping plans continue apace for refreshment of soul. However, plans become moot as Time Marches On and leaves leave trees. Many colorful leaves were within day’s drive of city, but spare day for Peeping remained elusive.

(Bordellos also within a few hour’s drive of city, but have little to do with refreshment of soul.)

 

 

 

 

December 07-

Spend holiday evening with several friends and family members. Young parents with offspring are present. One mother and daughter have spent entire morning serving breakfast at homeless shelter. Young mother causes me much internal hilarity with serious expression of satisfaction at young daughter being in what she terms Service Mode.

Ten minutes later, Young Daughter has caused extreme drama when her friend runs downstairs crying, and saying she Wants To Go Home Right Now due to obnoxious behavior on part of Young Daughter. Service Mode lasts only so long in second graders, before Nature reasserts itself.

Have delightful lunch with dear friend who pays flying visit to town. He has taken some time from placing bets on basketball games to catch up with me. Am gratified, but wish for more time to talk. Dear friend leaves next day for California. I ask waitress to take picture, which I send on to him later, as proof to those at home, he says, that he has does something Other than Gamble.

Pictures, as usual, take inordinate amount of time to upload to computer. Memory fails every time of How To Do It , and have recourse to manual. Remind self of Olden Days before digital cameras when wait time to see pictures could possibly take years. Still find rolls of film hiding in boxes now and then, which never got developed.

Necessity back then for film to be completely used, which was dependent on Photo Opportunities and Events, so as not to Waste Film. Unused film would remain in cameras, waiting to be used and then taken to Photo Lab, sent off to Main Lab to be Developed, sent back to neighborhood lab, and then picked up when spare dollars were available. By that time, proof of activities other than gambling, would be moot, and reason needed for proof forgotten.

Thinking of Olden Days engenders memories of other appliances, such as telephones. Land lines disappearing, and with them skills to pass on to our children, such as knowing How to Listen In on an Extension. Explain to dear Brandon how this was accomplished. Finger should have been held on button, while receiver was picked up very softly. Hand should have covered speaker, and if Eavesdropper was detected, receiver should have been very carefully replaced, while finger again held down button.

Much information about siblings, and everything else, could be garnered this way, if family had more than one phone. Cell phones now unavailable for eavesdropping for everyone but NSA.

Delightful rainy weather visits desert town, and cuddle in bed like burrowing small animal. Fine weather engenders feelings of guilt when not being enjoyed, making gloomy, rainy weather welcome. Much is accomplished by way of cleaning and writing when time is spent indoors.

Little Shop of Horrors visits itself upon me with unexpected and rather trying visit to dentist. One leg sticks straight up in air, seemingly of own volition, as dentist asks me If That Hurts. I mumble incomprehensibly around implements that are crowding together in my mouth, and channel Dustin Hoffman in Marathon Man.

While rooting for gold, Dentist teaches me medical terms for disgusting things that are found under some people’s teeth. Tell him Prurient Exudation sounds like heavy metal rock group, and eventually am released to go home, use ice on face, and take various medications, which makes burrowing in bed very satisfying.

 

December 01-

New swimsuit arrives in mail, bringing total of new suits to three in as many months . (Perhaps there is a Swimsuit of the Month club?) Instructions on tag state that suit should be Kept away from fire and Washed in clean water. Can only wonder what Chinese workers think we do in our swimsuits. Mine remains almost exclusively in bodies of water surrounded by cement.

Memory recrudesces of long ago days at the beach and building campfires. Perhaps Chinese remember similar days? (Am almost positive there is a beach in China, but will consult World Map, hanging on office wall but rarely referred to.)

Have finished reading autobiography of famous movie star’s daughter. Both mother and daughter still firmly alive, and can only wonder at strained relations, if any, that predominate between them. Adjure dear Brandon to Wait until I die before publishing memoirs, as number of phone calls from me to him reiterating that That Never Happened would be phenomenal.

(Mem: Remind him to read movie stars children’s memoirs as buffer to poor memory, as celebrities appear to make terrible parents. In contrast, perhaps I will become Mother of the Year in his mind’s eye?)

Just as I step onto platform to accept award and accolades for Mother of Year, I become angry at Brandon when tidying house. He has left mess in home office again. Am aware that I will be held responsible by his future wife for any shortcomings in his habits, nature, or character. Feel this is unjust, and am prepared to argue vehemently on own behalf that he is grown and can make better decisions. Will also inquire of future daughter-in-law if she has ever heard the words Work In Progress, or Free Will? Feel sure this will give her pause, and she will perhaps cease to blame me for his deficiencies.

(NB: Fictional arguments with mythical in-laws most satisfactory, as I cannot lose).

Wonder whether I am only one certified to fill soap dispensers or toilet paper holders. Am unsure whether to be gratified at trusting faith put in my capabilities, or give notice. (Remember in time I do not get paid, therefore giving notice will very likely go unnoticed).

Have recourse to watching television. Ad is playing showing young couple, pre-teen daughter, and grandmother on road trip. Girl and grandmother bonding in back seat, and mini movie ends by all hugging tree while young mother rolls her eyes.  Am reduced to tears as attractive, fictional family drives away from Woodstock.

Make plans to visit Woodstock, which is inconvenient in the extreme. Instead, play DVD of long ago music festival and feel better. (Query here presents itself: Whether television should be denied to the elderly, or whether it would be fun or wise to run away from home and go to Woodstock. Am aware that entire question does not encompass continuity of thought. Will take Sugar as protection against Undesirables encountered on road trip).

Recall with clarity that Woodstock festival took place in big, muddy field with amenities of civilization practically non-existent. Decide Hippie Lifestyle must just be left to advertisements and imagination.

November 27-

In effort to Keep Up With People, send out email correspondences. One dear friend can only text on phone. Am inclined to find texting as annoying as traffic lights. Exchange of reminiscences and current news by means of tiny keypad and two thumbs is most trying and requires hours and hours.

Keypad changes letters before user, me, has chance to spell word correctly. Answers to various comments delayed due to sluggish thumb activity, and cross paths with puzzling effect: How is your dear Sister? Reply: We have them with eggs in the morning.

Other dear friends never answer email as they are either so busy or never check messages. Am left wondering how future biographers will be able to compile letters and correspondence about me from intimate friends or acquaintances. Regret deeply the loss of actual letters on paper and sent by Post Office.

Have finished reading delightful book about famous chef and her adventures during WWII and while living in France. Before becoming a Chef, she was in OSS. Feel extremely envious of adventures of women spies and long to Travel Back in Past and join spy organization.

Copious amounts of correspondence archived in libraries from both her and husband are of invaluable assistance to Biographer. Both wrote hundreds of letters over years and years and gave Biographer much to chew on.

Recall reading anecdotes from various writers about journeys to remote corners of country to collect boxes of letters and journals. Remember my own tendency to get rid of anything that is not nailed down. Feel sure future Biographer will only learn about my passionate nature by reading copies of complaint letters written to various merchants.

(Note to self: Bequeath complaint letters to Don for Biographer’s possible use).

Am reminded of entire letter question when looking for public mail box during drive to retrieve customer’s stalled van parked on street. Drop boxes most inconvenient due to slot being on passenger side of car, and wonder if dear Postmaster General expected every car to carry minimum of two persons.

(Perhaps Sugar could be trained to hold letters in mouth and deposit them in slot?). Further wonder whether British drivers experience same inconvenience with mail boxes, but decide not, as curb would be on driver side? After researching, discover this is not so.

Upon seeing customer’s van, realize it is exact copy of Don’s. It is parked in front of large apartment complex. Idly observe to Don that it is good thing I didn’t see van when on my own, or would wonder if he was seeing Another Woman. He advises me to learn our license plate numbers.

On the whole, can see where this might be prudent course of action.

 

 

November 24-

Singular encounter takes place at local pharmacy. Dear Don and elderly man exchange words as to whether clerk was shouting at woman who came in with small dog. Don defended clerk as not having shouted, but merely Doing Her Job. Elderly man disagrees and wrangle ensues.

Wrangle ends when two policemen, having sensibly stayed at back of store and well out of fray, stroll out escorting small dog under arm and stroking canine perpetrator on head. (Original woman with dog mysteriously not seen again).

Am reminded of mysterious giant fire hydrant in nearby park, and wonder if current incident is prelude to dogs taking control? Current dog not only the subject of controversy, but has recruited local law enforcement as minions.

Can only suppose dogs will do much better with Civilization on the whole.  (NB: As bike rider, am familiar with Ankle Biting tendencies of small dogs, and feel vague fears forming.) Remember recent odd behavior of dear Sugar Baby. If she is part of future plot and invasion, will I have advantage, or be First to Go?

Further disputes with computer take place when website insists I type in series of letters and numbers called ‘captcha’  Designation of jumbled symbols sound like ‘capture’ and since seeming purpose of captchas appears to be to drive internet users outside and Into Traffic, name is apt. Running into traffic not recommended as vent to frustration.

(Query: Although internet was introduced by my generation, is it truly meant for the aged and frail of mind?) Reminiscences of past inventions for which special aid and instruction were needed, and disappeared before they were were mastered, appear in mind’s eye: Answering machines, tape players, microwaves.

While browsing online, read symptoms of many forms of cancer. Reading about diseases not a favorite thing to do, as become convinced I have all of them. Medical course in school a failure as was positive I had every condition described in textbook.

Decide later that if medical career a non-starter, have advantage in Decanting Things. During course of housecleaning, combined three partially used bottles of ketchup, two packages of saltines, and two bottles of mustard. Cannot understand dear Brandon’s reluctance to use up remaining amounts of things left in jars and bottles.

Perhaps Little People will have Answers to this.  If not, will insinuate myself as authority on vagaries of human nature, and Laws can be passed.

(Mem: Make note of own odd tendencies and make effort to eradicate them. Start with massive collection of library books).

 

November 20-

Local calls now require dialing the area code, should it become necessary to even call number as close as next door neighbor’s, whose name, after seven and a half years of close proximity, I still do not know.

Greater possibility exists however, of recognizing courteous father who replaced pane of glass after patio umbrella blew through bedroom window at fifty miles an hour, and whose face appeared unexpectedly when I was still attired in nightshirt.

March of Civilization continues backward and I reflect that at current pace, as evinced by necessity of dialing ten digits instead of six, we will soon be in need of crank phone mounted on wall, and nasal-voiced operator singing Pennsylvania Six Five Oh, Oh, Oh. This will be followed closely by use of dear little Carrier Pigeons for communications.

Pigeons ubiquitous, and have hopes of not going to great expense acquiring fleet for personal use. Fear that neither large wooden phone on wall, nor Pigeon will fit neatly in purse when leaving house on errands, and that pigeons likely to make mess on contents of handbag.

(Las Vegas decrees dealing with increased population difficult to follow.)

Contrast to anonymous, yet friendly next-door neighbor, arrives in the shape of landscaper who maintains yard of vacant property across street. Young man stands in street shouting obscenities to sky about mysterious annoyances which obstruct his performance of duties.

This intemperate behavior exhibited over several weeks. Consider calling authorities, but as shouting appears to be extent of his hostilities, I emulate Bad Samaritan and ignore him.

Feel that recommending Anger Management classes would not be well received and remain ensconced safely at home.

(Cherished belief that Working with Nature denotes peaceful and gentle nature, now defunct.)

Vibrations from aggressive gardener perhaps pervades house, as new owner requests Brandon’s help in unloading refrigerator from truck. Wife has thrown kitchen knife at him and house is in uproar.

Brandon did not get Wife’s side of story, and can only tell him that if, for example, Husband has agreed that she Looks Fat, he probably deserved it. Hope that Motherly Lesson to Brandon will be remembered before similar incident takes place in his own marriage.

(Suburbia far from dull.)

Take dear Sugar Baby on hike to mountain. Wistfully recall former residences when hiking was within short walk of home, but now entails driving minimum twenty minutes. Mountain is home to hermit who has lived on desert mountain for more than eight years. Cardboard sign updating his life is posted on stick halfway up slope, but was not on view today.

(Query: Does isolated home in tent among rocks and dirt prohibit Hermit updating followers on Facebook or Twitter? Much more convenient for the sympathetic and interested Sometime-Hiker.)

Horses and riders come up behind Sugar and I, one rider singing lustily. Riders dressed in cowboy gear, but do not appear to be in posse, or herding cattle. Cattle in residential areas very scarce, whereas barbecues, tacos, and steaks, are not. Pick up branch of dried Joshua wood riddled with many symmetrical holes, and plan spending spree with Big Money I will make from turning piece of wood into earring holder.

Arrive home very stiff and sore, and dear Brandon reminds me again that Nothing Good ever came from exercise or broccoli.

November 16-

Thoughts of Christmas cards materialize and feel pressure of approaching holidays. Lack of participation in almost all festivities in recent years has had definite effect on number of cards received, until we are now beneficiaries of perhaps five from acquaintances, most of them our dentist and doctor, whom we like very much. Nevertheless, feel compelled to think about Cards every holiday season until such a time as it is too late to do anything about them.

Tremendous rainstorm floods alleyway behind house and invades unit on property. Insurance agent informs Don that had the flood been from rain falling down from sky, damage would be covered. However, he says, That is Not the Case here, as Flood came from alley.

Our view is that the original source of rain was the sky, which proceeded to fill alley, and visit itself upon the foundation of house. Our views and agent’s opinion on whether flood was Act Of God, or whether rain acted on it’s Own Recognizance, differ widely. After discussion, I advise Don to address all future payments to Wonderland, and procure services of Mad Hatter as agent.

Dear Don’s retirement looms, and I research houseboat rentals on the Mississippi for future vacation. We agree this would be relaxing and exciting experience, and that we have responsibility to see more of Our Own Country. All is rosy until search for floating house on Google includes suggestions such as ‘Mississippi houseboat accident’, followed by ‘Mississippi houseboat tragedy’. Fear that if I continue, search will yield ‘Mississippi houseboat and End of World’ and leave it for the time being.

(Reading is to blame for American yearning to Wander. Books such as Huckleberry Finn and Travels With Charlie partially responsible for Road Trips and rafting down unfamiliar rivers.)

Sugar Baby causes personal uproar when I discover foam pad wantonly destroyed in backyard. Ask her with quiet, Deadly Smile if she’d like to go for a Drive in the Desert.  Sit down and have serious discussion explaining How Disappointed I am in her.

Idle conversation with Don veers, cannot say how, to the relative attributes of salt, sugar, and butter. Recognize that while people are entitled to their decisions about dietary choices, I affirm that I will never give up the Big Three entirely, and in fact, use two of them liberally, every day. (Consensus of thought quite satisfying, as we agree that giving them up may, or may not, contribute to longer life, but Earthly Existence will definitely Feel longer.)

Catch up on Pressing Business, entering grocery store sweepstakes. Code appears on front of invitation whereby I can enter and win a tailgating party, or, $10,000. Code is Butkus. Am not sure whether this indicates immature response of grocery store for patronizing other merchants, or is merely coincidence. (Have recourse to the Great Wizard Google, and learn that Butkus is name of professional football player. Mentally apologize to young man with this moniker for thinking his name a joke).

(Mem: Must make effort to be more culturally aware. Lack of knowledge of professional sports can lead to embarrassment when complaining to grocery store about having a Bad Attitude. On reflection decide that I don’t care, as we will be Long Gone on our houseboat after winning Big Money from sweepstakes.)

Dear friends who have gone on trip to Europe arrive home and inform me they have read all entries in Diary. Am much impressed and gratified, and make early New Year’s resolution to send them Christmas card by December 24.