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Tossed Salad Friday

~~ We had some big doings in Dementia-ville. I wasn’t a part of them and neither was the patient. But we were both treated to an extremely loud and quite protracted verbal assault on some person on the other end of the aide’s phone. What sounded like a man (Spouse? Son? Brother? Boyfriend? Father?) was called “stupid sonnabitch,” “ass-ass-ass-hole,” “dumber than dirt,” and “lousy” many times and in many forms. As the conversation was probably only 40% in English, I have no idea what the hell else he was called or what he did to trigger the tirade. I like this aide — she’s even-tempered and nice, so I want to give her the benefit of the doubt. I imagine either the offender did something really bad or repeated a very irritating action. However, I do know with certainty that the perpetrator is really-really-really lucky that the aide stays with us about 10 days, or he’d be removing his exceedingly dumb brain from his ass-ass-ass-hole already.

~~ Of course, I went in and checked. “Is everything OK?” I wondered. “Oh, yes, you know it!” was the too-cheerful answer.

~~ The smells this week were mixed. I cannot pinpoint the overwhelming aroma of any one thing or another. Let’s call it a sort of Noah’s Ark of the dead creatures of land and sea — too stinky by too mingled.

~~ Want everyone you know to think you’re cured of your stress-related ailment? Wear red lipstick. It works like a charm each time I tested it in the past week.

~~ She asked if I worked in the store. I shook my head and kept walking, only to hear her call out, “Well, you don’t have to be rude about it!” Was I supposed to apologize for working somewhere else, or stop to chat about the scarcity of retail help?

~~ Today was my grandmother’s birthday. She was a strong, interesting, chain-smoking, and opinionated woman who clearly had favorites among her grandchildren. I knew from my pre-teen years that I wasn’t in that category. That would have been tolerable if she didn’t strive to push the buttons that made me feel terrible about myself. There were too many times to recount, and it’s mostly water under a long-collapsed bridge. However, I can barely find a photo of me with my grandmother where I’m not crying or look like I’m trying to swallow the tears. Here’s one from my wedding shower:


~~ I’m broken up about the loss of Aretha Franklin — what an incredible talent and force for justice. I listened to an interview with her yesterday that blew me away because a recording of her father preaching was played. It's clear where she got a least a part of her formidable talent; C.L. Franklin was a powerful and musical messenger of his lord:


~~ As I shared last week, a wonderful man passed away. He’d served in the military, and so he was interred with the honors he deserved. As the folded flag was presented to his widow and daughter, a soldier declared that the deceased’s service was gratefully noted by “the president.” The same pirate in the White House who had disappearing bone spurs, dissed John McCain, is eradicating VA health benefits, and confiscating upwards of $90 million from the treasury to get his jollies from a military parade? It was such a sad thing for a grieving family to hear (and yes, they agreed with me).



Dasvidaniya. Have a great weekend!
LET’S GO METS!
Sorry, not yet ready for football

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