Frog and Goat

I wrote in my notebook journal, the one that’s pretty darn private, this morning and I filled the page with sadness. Sad story after sad story after sad story. You get the picture.

My Grammie (to quote the Niece) had a stroke while recovering from surgery. She couldn’t talk at all right after it happened. I was profoundly saddened and troubled. This is a woman who loves to chat and visit. My mother and her brother were visiting this morning and my Grammie said “aah-ite”. They were shocked and happy that something as close to “alright” came out of her mouth and they could understand what she meant. I told my mother that Grammie was just exercising her street-cred. All afternoon it has been aah-ite here at the homestead. Rock on Grammie.

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Last night we went out to dinner and I have finally assuaged my need for a BBQ sandwich. Ate more fries than I have in weeks to boot.

The table behind us was filled with co-workers from what has to be the loudest and shrillest office ever. I understand we were eating in a bar filled with the after work crowd. I’m down with that. What I’m not cool with is how effing loud a few of those people were at that table. One woman in particular is either a total moron or had had way too many drinks. She had that stupid “oh my god, totally, you know” thing going on. And, I don’t think she stopped to breathe. I practically jumped out of my skin at one point due to the high pitched keening. I told the better-half if I were a cat I would have run out of the place. Our check could not get to us fast enough.

Today at lunch a group of three women had the corner table and were ragging on everyone else in the restaurant. Unfortunately, I didn’t hear them bust on us. I was curious what they would say. I guess they didn’t see me miss my mouth. After they were done with lunch, they fiddled with the ring-tone on one of their phones for way too long. Yep, one phone, three fiddlers.

My sister called my mother today to report in after the storm. They are fine and think their place missed being torn apart or flooded. They can’t go to the house yet, but their sources tell them that it doesn’t look like the storm surge came over the dunes at their location. They are a little stir-crazy from being cooped up for so long but are fine. My uncle and family down in Miami missed too much of a bad thing and are glad to finally be able to take the shutters off the house.

My grandmother may have to have surgery and has already told the doctor he has to figure out a way to remove only part of her colon because she’s not going to end her life with a bag. I said “Way to go, Grammie”.

If you are watching the coverage, my sister and her husband live in New Smyrna Beach, FL. I’m sure we won’t hear from her until late Monday or early Tuesday because of infrastructure issues.

It sure does stink watching horrible events unfold on teevee especially when people you care about are in harm’s way.