Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Happy Birthday, Mom!

That's right, today my mom would have been 88 years old if she hadn't eaten too many barbecued ribs and sour pickles at her 65th high school class reunion in Evansville, IN five years ago, come home to burst her appendix, and do such a good job of it that she couldn't recover.  Leave it to Mom to make a flamboyant exit from this mortal coil.  No mere "shuffling off" would do for her.  Since my birthday is in two days, she and I used to take each other to lunch at HuHot.  We loved the food and free dessert, and we'd insist on separate checks so she could pay mine and I could pay hers.  I think the waitperson probably rolled her eyes but we did it anyway.  When her mom was still alive we'd all three have our birthday lunches because Babe's birthday was August 27, three days before Mom's, and five days before mine.  We were a trio of Virgos to be reckoned with.  The world might be lucky that time and fate broke us up.  I am perfectly confident that we'd have been in absolute control by now.

I got a very cool gift from Lala when she came to visit.  She'd shown me around her ancestral home a few months back and there was this awesome birdhouse in her garage that I expressed interest in so she kept it aside when the estate sale guy swept through and she delivered it on Friday.  I hosed it off and hung it from a hook in the living room window.  I noticed that part of the roof is bent so I plan to ask a metalworker pal of mine if he can straighten it a bit for me.  Maybe in the winter when his work slows down.  Thanks a bunch, Lala.  I love it.

Last night I finished the August Seamen's cowl.  I like the way it looks, don't you?  Blue and red, very masculine, and it'll be nice and warm when the cold wind blows on the deck of a ship.

August 30--Mitchel Gray, MG502.  "Left.  Left."  Doug cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled to Hilda as she pedaled past.  The cyclists were colorful blurs as they sped by, the cheering crowd drowning out the coaches.  This was the final race.  Heats had been run and strategies planned.  Doug and the team watched hours of film of the competition's races and of their own practices seeking an advantage, some small insight that would give them the edge.  Hilda was in front but that girl on the acid green bike was coming up on her left.  She needed to block her.

Eh.  This afternoon I get to go down and replace the leaky Y-connector by the washer and then go get a mold made for new orthotics that will hold my left foot in the proper position so it keeps healing the right way.  I hope it helps.  My ankle's still sore from yesterday's poking and prodding.  Don't slip on the ice and break your ankle.  Just don't.

1 comment:

Aunt B said...

Of course I love the pictures of Marl. And I agree that the three of you would be a force to be reckoned with -- well, maybe not mother. She wasn't quite as forceful as your mother. But then not many people are! What a wonderful sister she was. Still miss her so much.