12 September 2011
Aloha Granny! Happy impending birthday (which this missive may well miss… but I try.. I try… ) Had an interesting call from Stargazer last night. Newsy, as it were. He’s taken a leave of absence from UH (not permanent) to push off his dissertation without missing his deadline and is teaching computer science at UHP. Major Doma has lost her gig teaching kindergarten (which she loved) but secured a position teaching fifth grade, which apparently she doesn’t love quite so much, but at least she’s still working. There was… something else… It’ll come to me…
Happy Trails, Pops
3 October 2014
When L’Historienne told me that you’d been dealing with a bout of leukemia I just naturally assumed that she’d misspoken and meant anemia. Upon seeing you in California and having you regale me with your latest medical adventures, I am just agog. You are still my hero. Your strength, your endurance, your Baby-Chow-Face-level resolve (you get knocked down, but you get up again, ain’t no one gonna keep you down!) just continue to blow me away. Salute.
Well, Sugar certainly puts the “fun” in “funeral.” Her mom died on the 1st of September, and the sweet, tender eulogy she delivered (after the shaman’s sonorous screed, as befit mom and other family members’ faith) had us all tearing up and laughing in all the right spots. In all, a balanced expression of the personal loss, a frank and loving look at a life well lived and a legacy cherished, and an honest assessment of human foibles. I’d thought about asking her for a copy of it to share, as did her siblings, but I decided that it is too context dependent a piece and would not translate well ex familia.
Some idiot deer used my truck to commit suicide in July. I declined to hang around for the police, as Br’er Buck and I were not likely to exchange insurance data, nor were the fuzz apt to look up his kin. I carry strictly liability, so I ate the damage, though not my kill. Too much work for too little reward. Impact kills are messy and wasteful.
Later in July… The good news is that Bud did not cream the little girl who dumped her bike. The other good news is that after swerving off the road and hitting the tree, fracturing seven ribs and two vertebrae, his back hurts like uninvited fuck (no poetry, no flowers, no candy, no lubricants.) Now I know that doesn’t sound much like good news, but with potential spinal injury, pain is a good sign. As it turns out, the additional good news is that he is on the mend and his prognosis is bright. Sugar is recently retired, and now bemoaning her new surprise job, tending to “Mr Helpless.” I’ve been letting her mow the lawn a little, even though Bud says it counts against me.
As for moi, I am down to zero home grown teeth as of October 2013, but am now vested with fully functional dental substitutes, so I return to enjoying nuts and salad, yet continue to lean on my death-defying smoothies.
Also since October last, I have been excising some thirty thousand words from my masterwork, in preparation for physical publication, even if agents and publishers continue to not touch it. If needs be I’ll simply foot the bill myself. My monumental ego demands no less.
Milli and I continue to age gracelessly, as best we can.