This weekend I celebrated not getting killed, my grandson’s birthday, and a memorial for a dear friend all in the space of three days.
The plan for Friday was to get burgers from the local king of burgers with coupons we get in the newspaper, but first Mrs. the Poet decided it was too hot for her to stand out in the sun and I should get one of the specials that had two burgers and bring her back one, then I waited until 2 buses should have passed before it got too late to get back home and admitted defeat and returned to Casa de El Poeta minus burgers, so we had breakfast for dinner instead.
Saturday we celebrated the grandson’s 6th birthday with a bowling party, pizza, and of course cake and ice cream. The grandson asked for an “Ice Cream Flavored” cake, which his mother decided was chocolate marble. He got lots of presents. Because nobody told me what he’s into this year he got a card with money instead of a present.
Then we had the memorial service for my friend who died suddenly while in a nursing home, her condition went from “not bad” to “dead” in about 2 hours. There was an underlying condition that was the reason she was in the nursing home, but that wasn’t what killed her, she died from cellulitis, but was in care because of complications from an amputation. The service was very nice, with our religion’s sharing of bread and wine and a sharing of memories of her life.
And then this morning I woke up with fingers that didn’t quite work right. I managed to get breakfast and this blog post but it was uncomfortable to do it. I don’t get many bad days from my arthritis that I have had all my adult life, but today is one of the really bad ones. It’s really fun (not fun) trying to type as moving the fingers side to side just ain’t working.