My Friday

Some bloggers have a theme for each day of the week.  Not me.  I blog/post whenever I can or feel like it.  Right now, I’ve had two glasses of wine and the foresight to photograph two things that have significance to my life/day.

This is what I encountered this morning.  This photo was snapped with my phone about 100 feet from my house.  I think they were nibbling on the corn stalks wrapped around the street sign.

deer-out-of-car

You can only see three deer but there were more.  By the time I stopped the car and got my phone out, the deer got spooked and started to move away from my car.

If you want to know what those lighted numbers mean on my dashboard: It’s 62 degrees Fahrenheit. I have 400 miles-till-empty in my gas tank.  (Just got it filled up yesterday.)  It’s 7:37 am.  The airbag is disengaged in the passenger seat as no one is sitting there.

This second photo is taken at the dinner table after my second glass of wine.

wine-and-chocolate

Don’t judge.

Yes, that’s my empty wine glass and twelve, count ’em, TWELVE wrappers from Hershey’s Milk Chocolate with Almonds and Toffee Nuggets.  In the background is the Mark Levin book, The Liberty Amendments.

I ate them all.

Mr. Aitch had none.

I just hope they don’t rebel.

Life goes on

Sometimes it’s hard to know what to say.  On a blog.  On the phone.  In a letter.  In person.

Beginning with the last two weeks in February things started getting hard.

My sister had to do a very brave thing.  It was time for her adopted greyhound to leave this world.  Being brave is so hard.  What do you say?

Our neighbor, Steve, lost his battle with Alzheimer’s disease.  I took a breakfast care package to his wife and daughters.  Mr. Aitch was an honorary pallbearer.  We hadn’t seen Steve for over a year when he was moved to a nursing home.  What do you say?

Mr. Aitch’s cousin suffered from COPD.  Her suffering ended in February.  What do you say?

A co-worker’s sister.  Also gone.  What do you say?

Last night we learned that a friend Mr. Aitch and I have known since college was recently diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and has four or five months left to live.  He’s teaches at a local college and is in the middle of directing a musical production that opens this week.  This particular production is one that he actually wrote.  And it will be his last.

I want John to know that I value his friendship.  He and his wife used to come to our house and play Trivial Pursuit until the wee hours of the morning.  We went on motorcycle trips together.  I listened to the heartaches that come with parenting teenagers.  I only see John a few times a year now and when we go to the musical performance this weekend, I’ll probably see him again. 

What do I say?