Beautiful Sunrise…

Maggie and I were just walking over the hill by the elementary school at daybreak.  You could see down into the basin of the Chattahoochee Valley where the river lies. We were greeted with one of the prettiest and most glorious sunrises I’ve seen in a long time.  I hated I didn’t have my camera with me, but I doubt a photo could do justice to what we were experiencing as we crested that hill.

I had a message from my father on my answering machine when I arrived home telling me all my cousins were in town and staying with my parents.

“Come spend some time with us and eat breakfast!” said the answering machine in my cheery father’s voice.

“No thanks,” I muttered under my breath as I deleted the message -- spoken like a truly socially anxious person. “I’d rather eat road kill with Maggie.”

My father thrives in such situations while I languish in uncomfortable awkwardness.

Ants in My Pants…

That what I am feeling right now – that itchy, impulsive, can’t wait for something to get here feeling.   Tomorrow is grocery day and I am growing very excited. I am like a kid on Christmas Eve.  

Mom got me the Kellogg's frosted flakes last week and they were much better than the Kroger brand I have been getting for months. That’s my only message to mom that we forego store brand from now on when it concerns cereal. 

Endearing Dishes, Rubber Optional…

“Oh, shit!” I said brusquely and tersely as Maggie and I approached some road kill under a street lamp around 6:00am. It was one very, very unlucky armadillo.  Armadillos are quickly becoming the new possum of the Southland.

“I sure bet you would like to drag that home,” I told Maggie as we crossed over to the other side of the road to skirt culinary disaster. 

What is it about dogs that causes them to love dead, stinky stuff? It must be some genetic vestige from the past when dog’s ancestors were scavengers. Like jackals in the night…

On the Cusp of a Weekend…

Well, it is almost here.  The weekend of fun that is.  No more volunteering for a few days and lots of fun, time consuming projects that have been put off now for the whole week and some for months.

I got a few things I want to do to my computers this afternoon.  If I suddenly disappear and fall silent for awhile then you know I screwed something up. I also plan to get the exhaust fan on the front of the computer chassis working as the temperature is running a little high inside my computer case and I want to hook up the chassis speaker so as to get my BIOS codes if I have any problems that crop up.  I also need to fix the jumper pins for the CMOS battery so it doesn’t reset the BIOS settings every time the power goes out.  

Do Ham and Mac and Cheese Go Together?

“What do you want our Helen to cook tomorrow?” my father asked me while we were in my laundry room taking care of Maggie’s food and water bowls last night.

“Let’s have macaroni and cheese!” I replied excitedly. “And some green beans!”

“I also want some ham steaks as well,” dad responded back ever addicted to those things.  I am just not a big ham person, but I wouldn’t dare bite the hand that feeds me and will eat anything placed in front of me.

Happy Birthday Horsefly!

The doctors said that Horsefly would probably not live longer than 20 years. Last night was Horsefly’s 40^th birthday.  He is about one year ahead of me age wise.  He has proven them wrong on so many levels of everything.  They never thought he would learn to read and write as well.  Keep proving them wrong Horsefly! We love you!

It’s the Devil in the Details Dear Martha. In the Details…

I would most likely vehemently argue that our pets are some of the very best cared for pets in the Chattahoochee Valley area.  With my mother’s pet healthcare calendar that she diligently updates and checks on a regular basis, we are not going to miss any healthcare appointments and she diligently goes about this task. My father calls her our secretary. That’s why Dr. Thomas always says our pets won the equivalent of the Georgia lottery coming to live with us.  Money is no obstacle to my mother when it comes to Muffin’s (mom’s cat) or Maggie’s heath.  I really do appreciate my mother doing that.  I couldn’t afford to pay for all these vet visits without my mother’s financial help.  Our last vet bill was just over $200 dollars.  And my mother got Maggie a new leash and harness as well – worried the last collar was too tight on Maggie’s neck. 

Welcoming Dawn…

There is a certain time at night usually around 4am or 5am that the katydids suddenly quit calling for the night.  That happened a moment ago when I was at my parents getting my six sodas for the day. There was this seemingly sudden silence, eerie almost, as I walked back down the steps to my car.  Soon, the magical hour would begin for another day.  The magical hour is when the world really comes to life. That will happen around 6am during our Maggie’s walk.  Birdsong will erupt every where.

I Don’t Want to go Down Amy’s Path…

Dad said last night the he has been reading about Amy Winehouse's life, addictions, and music.  He didn’t know who she was until I was lamenting her demise the other night. 

“This is just like you!” dad said excitedly. “You’ve had almost a uncannily similar battle with addiction and your health. You were so talented and just threw it all away.”

Dad wanted to hear her music so I played a few tunes that had that 60s Motown feel to it that was characteristic of the earliest of Amy’s music.

“Why do so many talented people deal with addiction like this?” my father asked. “They all seem to deal with this same monster!”

“It can only be genes or brain chemistry,” I solemnly said, resigned to my fate.. 

The Much Lauded Afternoon Nap…

It seems we are doing a lot of power napping these days.  Being Maggie is hard work when it all boils down to it. Those late night patrols of the backyard are not going to slow her down too much.  She’s not going to miss anything that is going on, though, keeping one eye open. 

Bonkers…

I had to go see my psychiatrist this morning.  They called me or I would have forgotten. She seems to think we are at a therapeutic dosage of Risperdal. I take 2mg in the morning with breakfast. That extremely groggy feeling I got in the mornings has gone away as well that is so characteristic of most antipsychotics.

“Things seem to be very stable this week,” I told her optimistically. “But I am still knocking on wood just in case.”

I probably should’ve looked at it more closely, but I signed and agreed to a treatment plan.  I guess sometimes we just put blind trust in our heath care professionals when some do deserve scrutiny.  

Shoo Fly!

Lately, I have quit looking for yard work via door to door solicitation. I rely on word of mouth and Sandra helping me at the pharmacy with my business cards.

The reason I say this is that I just got solicited for mowing my lawn which didn’t need mowing in the first place. It was a hard sale. He almost wouldn’t take no for an answer. This happens a lot in my neighborhood. This also caused Maggie to go bonkers for 30 minutes – hyper vigilant as she is.  It was just a very uncomfortable experience that I do not want repeated – my social anxieties welling up in fear. I don’t want to be like that dude at my door and imposing on my potential customers.  

Catching the Last Rays of the Sun…

Welcome to Smilesville…

I was grinning broadly as my feet hit the floor and I got out of bed this morning. I felt ready to take on the whole world! I seriously haven't felt so upbeat and rested in my whole life. It’s feels like being on heroin or some other extremely addictive and intoxicating drug.  Sometimes I just get the “giddies” for no apparent reason it seems.  It could be medication related. These feelings of joy are fleeting, though, and I savor them when I can get them.

Me and several others were at the Piggly Wiggly as soon as their doors opened at 7am. I needed to get a very fresh loaf of bread for my sandwiches. I flirted some with the cute cashier before leaving telling her she had beautiful eyes. I was even grinning on the drive home from there as well as I sang along with Suzanne Vega, 99.9 degrees Fahrenheit.  I took the long way home to finish hearing the song.

Maggie and I went for our walk earlier around 6am. It was just getting some light on the eastern horizon when we left the house.  Maggie about choked herself to death trying to get out of the front door as fast as possible. She is so very impatient, but she gets better with time. This will make almost two weeks of walking on a regular basis. I am very proud of Maggie and I. I probably wouldn’t have lasted so long without Maggie to encourage me and to urge me onwards.

Just Along For the Ride…

I could’ve been on planetoid Pluto as far as the rest of the world was concerned this morning. I had my head in the clouds. I was the walking dead much like a zombie and Maggie called all the shots today. This made us walk on a much, much more meandering and haphazard path.  I shouldn’t have stayed up so long after midnight reading magazines in the bed.  I learn my lessons the hard way as usual.

Maggie and I got home and she wanted to play. Maggie was really going strong this morning feeling her oats. I sat on my back deck with my iPad as I was yawning. I had the outside flood lights on and would throw Maggie's plush toys and she would bring them back to me.  This never fails to thrill the Mags. 

The Cornucopia Arrives…

Sometimes just having something to look forward to can make such a very positive difference in my life.  That’s how I always feel about grocery day. Mom can get excited about it as well – living vicariously through me and our ritual.  Today is going to be a what I call a grab bag day as I told mom to just get us all kinds of breakfast type foods.  I’ve been on a breakfast for supper kick lately.  It will be interesting to see what my mother buys.  My mother has the taste buds characteristic of a small child similar to mine as well.

Rest in Peace Dear Amy…

I was listening to Amy Winehouse’s Frank album when I heard she had died in London at the age of 27.  What a strange coincidence I muttered to myself shocked at the news. I had just began to really enjoy her music after discovering it and then she was gone. It seems like many of the creative people in the world live life with their candles burning at both ends. I know I have often done so myself many times. 

“Here’s Your Change!” she said.

What music to my ears!!! I just got back from driving to Fat Albert’s. The novelty of just driving over to Fat Albert’s convenience store and buying something still thrills me so incredibly well now that I have money again.  I doubt it will ever get old after all those penniless years behind me.  Today I bought 2 Tijuana Mama pickled sausages which are reputed to being 300% hotter than their regular pickled sausage (they weren’t that bad heat wise). I also bought a large “thirst buster” soda. I am sure those fit in a food group somewhere.  If not then we will make some up.  You don’t always have to color within the lines.

I had a ton of Tupperware plates to take to mom this afternoon also.  Helen has been making me prepared meals of leftovers for later in the week which I am very appreciative of. She always cooks as if for an army battalion. The Tupperware meal containers were piling up in my sink, though.  Mom was thrilled to get them and that I would be so thoughtful to bring them back like I did without her having to cajole and pester me about them. She was loading them into the dishwasher as I left. I stopped just long enough to get a taste of the spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove and then headed home. 

The Crossroads…

“Whoa!” I promptly told Maggie to slow down and stop as we had come to a large crossroads this dark starlit predawn during our walk. Maggie dutifully stood near my side like I have been teaching her to do. 

A large dark blue sedan came barreling through the intersection without even noticing us or looking.  It was belching copious amounts of blue exhaust smoke as it burned oil signaling the piston rings were going out and not sealing.  That engine would die soon.  I muttered some profanity under my breath that shouldn't be published on a blog that I will spare you all from reading. I must’ve been a sailor in a previous life. Nah, I just grew up with my father and Charlie and their potty worthy mouths.  

Little Ms. Pit bull…

You know?  I always thought pit bulls were a scary breed of dog.  The first dog we meet on our usual walking path is a brindle pit bill.  She is so sweet and always comes to greet us wagging her stump of a tail vigorously in friendship.  I always feel like I am handling a rattlesnake, though.  It could bite at any moment.  Many years ago, in town, a Mrs. Pilkington was out walking for exercise and was attacked by a pit bull and she died.  So sad.  She was the elderly wife of one the better auto mechanics in the area.

Pear Salad Explained…

When I was a boy and a young man, dad would always insist on us having a “salad” with every meal – especially supper.  Be it pear salad, congealed salad, citrus salad, carrot salad or fruit salad, etc.  Pear salad is simply a half a pear packed in heavy syrup with a  dollop of mayonnaise, an ample sprinkling of sharp cheddar cheese, and a candied cherry on top.  It is so simple to prepare and very delicious.  That didn’t stop my mother from balking about making it though as I was growing up.  She thought my father was being silly and petty for wanting a fruit salad with every meal.  This would rank right up there with “Yankee” beans that weren’t Southern style seasoned as far as the things my father and mother would argue about food wise and these arguments could get quite escalated.   Dad once left for a few days over a Yankee beans fiasco as mom helped him pack his bags. 

Dad one time told his aging mother that he was going to make enough money that he could pay someone to cook for him and that they cooked what he wanted, and he was going to have a salad every meal come hell or high-water.  My grandmother told him, “Good luck!” With Helen his wish came true.

Lessons On Walking a Dog…

Maggie and I were out of the house by 6am this morning for our daily walk.  “Who walks who?” I asked myself this morning as Maggie urged us south through the neighborhood towards the apartment complex.  I am trying to teach Maggie the finer points of walking on a leash.  Like stopping and getting off the road when a car is coming and getting close to me. A car flying by on busy Gilmer Ave. used to freak her out causing fear. We try to stick to the neighborhood roads, though, so Maggie can meet and greet with the other dogs that are fenced in.  

This is So Painful to Write About…

I often have nightmares about this.  One night, Maggie, Caramel and I were in the bed.  Caramel jumped off the bed and started retching like she was trying to throw up something and couldn’t.  I waited a few hours of constant retching and then finally called the emergency veterinarian service.  The very young veterinarian took an X-ray and Caramel had managed to swallow two large rounded pebbles and part of a garden hose.  The vet said he needed to do emergency surgery to remove the obstructions.

The next morning Caramel came home.  We were lying in the bed and I felt this very wet spot.  I looked at caramel and dog food was leaking out of the incision in her abdomen.  It was horrific to see her abdomen leaking like that and spilling out onto the bed. The sutures in her stomach had ruptured to allow food into her intestinal tract. The veterinarian had to do another emergency surgery to suture her stomach back up.  He waived the cost of all the surgeries.

Caramel healed and is alive, but she lives with Charlie in the fence at his house.  Dad felt I was unable to handle owning two dogs. This is what embarrasses me – that I couldn’t even take care of a dog.      

Mmmm, Meatloaf…

“I fixed some of your favorite things,” Helen told me with a smile from the open window of her Yukon as she leaned over to hand me my plate.  “Meatloaf, creamed potatoes, and biscuits!” 

I was also glad to get pear salad which has become one of my favorite Helen side dishes. 

“Where’s mom?” I asked Helen.

“Lord child, she says her back is bothering her,” Helen replied.

It All Comes Out in the Wash I Hope…

Dad was very seriously concerned about my Maggie last night as well as I was also.  It had been about four hours since we had left the Animal Clinic and Maggie still seemed heavily drunk and in a stupor from the anesthesia they had administered to do her checkup.  I, personally, was scared to death worried about her – shades of Caramel came to mind which makes me very wary of veterinarians. Maggie is a very active dog and I have never seen her quite so lethargic.  Dad asked me a hundred questions about what happened.  He didn’t even know mom had gotten this up for us to do.  Maggie was fine this morning, though.  I woke up to her sleeping by my side peacefully this morning.  Glad my Mags is okay. She vigorously jumped off the bed when I awoke and headed outside this morning for a potty break.  That was a very good sound to hear as she went through that dog door!  We forwent our walk this morning.   I didn’t want to push my luck. 

Helen Fridays…

I always say I am going to get a picture up on the blog of what Helen cooked. A picture can say a thousand words as the old saying goes. I am so hungry by the time Helen or mom gets here that I greedily wolf down the food and forget.  I will try to get one up today.  I have no idea of what Helen is cooking today so it will be a surprise to us both.   

The Road to Hell was Paved With Good Intentions…

I took off early from volunteering this morning. With great trepidation over nothing, I asked Ms. Pauline if I could go home early.  She said, “Sure!” with a warm smile.  Mom is very impatient and wanted to get Maggie's checkup over with.  My mother was driving very badly as well this morning hitting every curb and bump along the way.  It can be quite scary and sends my anxiety levels skyrocketing. Maggie was also constantly whining as she sat in my lap shaking like a leaf  -- scared to death.  I thought I would never get out of Dr. Thomas’ animal clinic with a sane mind and anxiety attack free.  We left Maggie for her annual checkup and will pick her back up at three.  Lord, help me get through this. 

Snack Attack!

It’s very well after midnight and I just drove over to my parent’s to get my six cokes for the day.  I am cycling mental illness wise I think – these sudden surges of energy at a time I should be sleeping. Could be mania, but let’s hope not. The kitchen light was on as I walked up onto the back deck and mom was standing at the kitchen counter munching on something.  Dad will often say that if he didn’t know my mother’s nocturnal habits then he would think they had mice – empty cracker wrappers and crumbs left on the counter during the late night hours.

Ready, Set, Go! 

The race for optimum pet health begins tomorrow afternoon with Maggie’s checkup.  I wonder if Dr.  Thomas will say his obligatory, “That dog sho ‘nuff done won the Gawgia lottery getting a home with y’all.” Mom’s pet health care reputation precedes her.  Dr. Thomas also loves to make snide remarks about pharmacists i.e. my father making much more money than veterinarians. 

The Wheezing Man…

Maggie and I often get passed by this middle-aged dark haired man out running every early morning this week before the heat of the day hits.  He sounds like he is very badly out of breath from his exertions – wheezing almost.  It sounds almost truly dangerous heart and cardiovascular wise.  I would probably sound like that if I chose to run myself instead of walking.  Can you say one cigarette too many? Maggie always growls very softly when he passes as if he may be a threat or danger. The staccato like chuffing noise he makes with every footfall scares her.

“Good Morning!” he will happily say as he passes us with gleaming white teeth radiating from the light of a nearby street lamp.  

The only fruitful thing that occurred during my volunteering tenure today was to fix a computer with an ailing ancient AGP (accelerated graphics port) video card.  One of the cards in a broken computer in the parts room was substituted and the ailing computer fired right up and was running again. Don’t you love it when things can go so easily?  It makes me look like a computer repair genius when it is really just a case of computer repair common sense making heads or tails of the warning codes the BIOS was giving. 

The Wind Picks Up the Smell of Rain…

My dearest Maggie and I were out the door at 5am this morning after I shortly got dressed into my comfortable walking attire.  A few moments before, I was laying in the bed sound asleep until Maggie woke me by jumping up on the bed and snuggling closely beside me wagging her tail. It would be just mere minutes until I would wake up anyway.

“Can we go for a walk?” she seemed to be implying impatiently much like a kid at Christmas.  Have I created a walking monster?

It had rained sometime during the night and the smell of the warm and damp asphalt brought memories roaring back into focus – many memories of summer days as a child and playing in the rain and the rivulets in front of my childhood home. 

Before the Welcoming Bed…

Dad never ceases to amaze me with his ability to intuitively use his iPad.  I had never thought he was destined to use such gadgets with them being so complicated. He borrowed my iPad last night and showed me a You-Tube video of Prince William and Princess Kate in Ottawa.  He is obsessed with the royal family and has been for years. I told dad that I was very impressed by the way he has learned to use his gadgets.

It Shall Only Get More Complicated…

“It is time for Maggie’s checkup and booster vaccines at the Veterinarian tomorrow morning,” mom told me. “I’ve already made an appointment.”

"Mom,” I replied carefully. “I have to volunteer at 9am”

I could see mom sitting there with her hamster going a 100 miles an hour in it’s wheel.  Machinations of the Martha kind.

“I will call back and make an afternoon appointment,” mom told me.

Let’s hope this goes as smoothly as possible. 

Fog off the Chattahoochee…

It is 5:30am and I am up at the very crack of dawn.  First light will be about 6am.  I took Maggie for her walk around the neighborhood a moment ago in the predawn dark and it was so nice and comfortable to be walking minus the heat – the streetlights lighting the way.  Maggie and I are going to do this more often I think. There is also a slight fog rolling off the Chattahoochee which made it kind of spooky, but I had my supreme protector with me – the esteemed Magdelina.

Casserole Heaven, I Anticipate You…

Have I ever told you about my love of casseroles?  I have never met one I haven’t liked so far in my life.  Last night, Helen brought by a big heavy plate of food from her church’s potluck supper.  The plate was full of large helpings of different casseroles.  I was hoping this would be the case when Helen told me she was bringing by a plate. I was a true glutton last night – a casserole glutton that is.  Helen had made a mushroom chicken and rice casserole that was to die for.  

Grocery Day… 

I am also very excited today is grocery day. I have waited many days for this and also daydreamed about it. The weeks really do fly by the older you get. The only major change this week from last week was the addition of some Kroger brand Frosted Flakes. I am tired of Raisin Bran.  I am also fixated at the moment on those Hebrew National hotdogs as well.  I could eat dozens of them if I had the room in ye olde stomach.  It is going to be a long wait until 3:00pm when mom arrives.  It certainly will be a test of my mettle and a measure of my patience. 

Funny and Typically Andrew Stuff…

“Dad?” I confided in my father earlier this morning over the phone. “What would make me better as far as socialization goes?”

“Act like your genuinely glad to see people even if you aren’t. You can be kind of morose and depressed sounding most times as well. Carry on about the person a little bit. Ask about how their families are doing. Seem interested in their lives.  Let them know you are a welcoming and gregarious person.”

“Okay,” I told my father. “I will give it a try.”

Moments later, Helen called me and asked me if I wanted a big plate of food this afternoon from her Church’s potluck supper.

I about fell over myself being nice to Helen asking how her family was doing and if her husband was feeling better.

“Andrew? Are you smoking something?” Helen asked me warily a few moments later.

I burst out laughing.

“I am acting odd and strange aren’t I?” I asked Helen. “I am trying to learn to be more social.”

“I thought something was bad wrong with you!” Helen exclaimed as she chuckled and then burst out in laughter.  “Don’t start smoking that wacky weed!”

We both laughed and got off the phone.  That didn’t go as I had planned.  Years ago, I would have used alcohol as a social lubricant, but I no longer have that luxury any more.

To Justfly…

If I single people out, then I don’t mean to.  Some of my readers have stuck by me for years.  Thanks for the feedback.  I will notice this social screw-up  more easily.  Take care of yourself.  And please don’t think that I don’t care about about you and some of my readers.  You all are important to me.  

Big Toning Down on the Frumpiness Factor…

“You look so very, very good!” my father said ecstatically a moment ago looking me over. “You’ve shaved.  Your nails are trimmed and manicured.  And your hair is styled so nicely.  I wish you would do this everyday.”

I did this solely for my father. I usually stay in comfort mode on Saturdays.He said he was having a bad day when I called him at the pharmacy earlier. I knew it would perk him up – me conforming to common fashion trends and accepted social norms.  My whole family is hyper vigilant about conforming to standard social rules.  Dad said I usually look frumpy and it made me smile and think of Pipe Tobacco. 

Dad his been bringing me a barbeque sandwich cooked by a Mr. Siggers every Saturday.  They are delicious.  Mr. Siggers is giving Rodger’s Barbeque a run for their money.  I was looking forward to that sandwich today and couldn’t wait until dad got here.  I wasn’t disappointed.  I almost thought my father had forgotten about me. 

The Gravy Train…

I was quite literally intrigued when I saw Helen pull up in front of my house and blow her horn very loudly. It is curbside service only for my mother and also Helen. I was sitting in my computer room wasting time toying with the overclocking features of my motherboard (teetering on the edge of computer disaster is a more apt phrase).

Usually, mom brings my meals like clockwork every Friday afternoon. I walked outside to greet Helen. It was raining slightly and I knew I was going to melt at any moment. She wanted to see how I was doing and she also had a plate of fried chicken, snap beans, fried okra, rutabagas and cornbread. There was also a plate of garden fresh sliced tomatoes. All they needed was a little salt and pepper to kick them up a notch. They made great sandwiches as a snack on sourdough bread a moment ago. I also had some sliced cucumbers and onions that had marinated in vinegar and salt all day in the fridge.  That was the icing on the cake.

“Your mother had to go to the doctor about her restless leg syndrome,” Helen told me explaining why mom was gone.

I smiled and Helen winked.  Mom really is a health insurance company’s worst nightmare.  She has at least has one appointment a week.  No stone unturned is mom’s policy regarding her healthcare.  Dad says she is going to outlive us all.

Pipe Tobacco…

Personally?  I miss you when you don’t comment.  I get worried something is amiss between us.  After all, you and Annabel were my very first two readers of this blog.  I will never lose sight of that.  You are also such a kind, sensitive and caring soul much like me.

It’s That Time Again…

The magical hour has started in earnest across the Southland. Around 30 minutes ago the only sound outside I could hear was a dozen or so crickets and a crowing rooster a few streets over from me.  Now?  The birds have gone wild to welcome in a brand new day.  There is some exceptionally nice and jubilant birdsong going on out my computer room window at the moment. The birds must be enjoying this uncommonly wet pattern and the needed rain that has fallen every day. 

Play It Again, Sam…

Open mouth and insert foot should be my new and very appropriate motto when it concerns friendships and the faux pas I commit all the time on this blog.  I’ve befriended a lot of people over the years of this blog'. but no real lasting relationships remain – my social aloofness taking center stage as far as relationships go.

Dear Grannie…

I miss you and care about you very much. And I hope you return as a cherished friend of mine.  I pray the rift between is not a chasm that can’t be closed. 

Love,

Andrew

Kind of Quiet This Morning…

Y’all, I am not feeling well or up to snuff today. I am having a flare up of that old nemesis of mine. Mental illness or eccentricity. A lot of it is nervous energy from having to help teach “writing resumes with the computer as an aid” this morning (I have never figured out how to just say no when I am already carrying too much upon my shoulders). Come what may, let’s start the day as they say.

Writers of the Night….

Well, I am up and wide awake at 4am. This is not uncommon as my body seems to be on a schedule that includes getting up at totally insane hours of the morning. Damn those circadian rhythms that are awry and askew. I just drove over to get my six pharmacy funded sodas as well.  I love those early morning drives through the Chattahoochee Valley with just the traffic lights and me.  Also, I think we should call us early morning bloggers “The Order or Guild of the Midnight Oil”.

Wiggly Worm…

“Hold still you stinker,” I told Maggie late yesterday evening as I began to laugh while I was sitting on the floor. “I am never going to get this leash on you and we won’t be able to go on our walk.”

She was wiggling so much out of excitement that I couldn’t get her leash on.  I had the biggest grin on my face with Maggie rearing to go. We took a stroll around the neighborhood and Maggie didn’t want to go home. She was definitely feeling her wild oats yesterday. I had to pick her up and carry her inside and Maggie is certainly no puppy any longer.  She must weigh at least 35 pounds. Over the threshold we went. “Welcome back to borings-ville,” I told Maggie.

Mexicali…

Mom brought me two beef burritos, refried beans with cheese and Spanish rice for supper last night.

“Don’t tell your father I did this,” Mom said with a clandestine look on her face. “Your father says that you will just waste it,” my mother then told me sheepishly with a grimace.

I tell ya.  There needs to be an consensus on who is crazy in this family and who is not.

Dual Guests on the Life of Andrew Show…

Dad stopped by later after work.  Usually when dad arrives he has ulterior motives as he did last night.  He was surreptitious about this and was mainly checking to see if my house was clean and tidy and that Maggie had food and water.  Soon, Charlie pulled up in front of the house bearing gifts as well.  Having my father and Charlie over at the same time practically sent Maggie over the edge.  Her two favorite persons in one occasion.  Bless!  She almost fainted from the excitement. 

Charlie had driven down to Auburn, home of Auburn football, to purchase me more shirts – four really nice shirts that fit me very well.  He had bought several shirts for dad as well. I was so appreciative in that I am a fashion disaster and I need some help from a more capable family member when buying clothes.  Well, the clothes were awesome and exactly the kind of shirt I will wear on a daily basis. Dad has my same affliction when it comes to fashion as well and Charlie also buys most of his clothes.

Mom instigated all of this I later learned.  Dad said they were sitting in the den reading when my mother abruptly said, breaking the silence, that we had to do something about my clothes – that they all had holes in them. 

“He’s living in what looks like squalor,” dad said my mother told him aggravatingly.

That just made me smile writing that.  Mom was using a wee bit of hyperbole there.

The Commonality of it All…

One of my younger female co-workers is always interested in what I pack in my lunch.  No bland, lifeless white bread here.  I’ve been on a rye bread kick for a few weeks now. Toasted rye or sourdough bread and pimento cheese go exceptionally well together which I packed a lot last week.

“What are you eating today?” she asked me a moment ago propping up against the computer cubical I was in.  She had a prying smile on her face.

“My parent’s cook fixed meals of leftovers for me all week,” I replied explaining why I wasn't eating my normal sandwiches.

“Your parents have a cook?!” she asked with an air and look of incredulousness. 

I showed her my meal of ample baked ham, biscuits, peas and carrots and creamed potatoes.  She found that infinitely fascinating and asked me many questions.  I wasn’t trying to put on airs as it seemed, but It is what it is. 

A Late Night Growl Woke Me…

Having a hyper vigilant and aware dog can surely make you feel safe and can be jarring at the same time some days.  Maggie woke me this morning around 2am growling as she lay next to me on the bed.  I didn’t want to get out of the bed, but I learned my lesson about getting my car stolen that Christmas day, I went and turned every outside light on including my porch light and checked my car to see if it was locked.  I have a fortune in CDs in that vehicle. Maggie went outside on a backyard recognizance mission, but came back in shortly and we both went back to sleep.

It’s Coming Up a Cloud…

That’s what my father’s mother would always say when a storm was was brewing on the horizon and you could hear the first rumbles of thunder.  It’s coming up a cloud as we speak with heavy thunder to the north of us.  She also called thunderstorms “electrical storms.”  I miss her so and her daily little tidbits of common sense, love and wisdom she would impart on to me on a daily basis.  It wasn’t something I was born with, but had to learn from my more capable family members. I always say my brother was my conscience and moral compass and taught me right from wrong, and how to make good moral decisions.

Helen was looking out for me last Friday as she usually does.  She fixed Tupperware meal containers of leftovers so I would have a home cooked meal every day all next week. Mom got hungry and has already eaten one plate so I better get my butt in gear and go get the rest.

Dad and Charlie were painting dad’s den when I was leaving earlier this afternoon.  It was kind of a soft neutral olive color. I thought it was pretty.  Mom and dad are having new furniture delivered soon and are going to spruce up the whole house.  .

Mileposts…

The heat had almost gotten the better of me as Maggie and I sat on my front steps cooling off in the shade. Maggie was panting as if she was breathing her last breath on this God’s Earth. I promised Maggie we will go earlier or later in the day from now on.  This will mark a week Maggie and I have been walking everyday. Our walk is paltry when compared to Happyone’s 6 to 7 mile jaunt every morning.  But it’s a good start – the best start I’ve had in years as far as exercising goes, The pleasure Maggie receives from these excursions is certainly encouraging as well.  It is certainly a kid at Christmas moment every time I pull the leash out of its drawer.

I’m Lost. Will You Help Me Find My Way Home? Please?

I was in a frantic chaotic hurry this morning to get to the center to volunteer. I felt amiss. My hair was still wet. It was after seven when I woke up. I panicked as I was running way behind and even left my beloved lunch of salami and cheese sandwiches, Sunchips and bananas at home sitting on the kitchen counter.  It wasn’t until I got to The Literacy Center and was greeted by an empty parking lot that I realized it was Saturday and we are closed. DUH! I don’t have these senior moments often, but this was one of the more glaring examples in recent memory.  I guess I should ask for an A for effort or even better -- an A for lots of Aricept, the Alzheimer's drug.

I came home after getting some sausage biscuits at Mickey D’s.  Yes, Maggie got her two sausage biscuits as well.  Maggie was just thrilled beside herself at her good fortune when I pulled back into our driveway.  Normally, I would be gone all morning for hours.  Sausage biscuits and daddy staying home today about pushed her over the edge of the excitement chasm from which there is no return.

I had one lady in line at McDonalds tell me I smelled wonderful this morning.  When people say stuff like that then it seems like a much kinder and less harsh world we live in.  I smiled blushing, profusely thanked her, and told her she was smelling Irish Spring soap.

A Worldly and Wise Woman…

Helen stopped by this afternoon with my plate of “Helen Friday’s” food. I don’t know what happened to my mother today.  Helen had cooked baked ham, mashed potatoes, and various other vegetables along with her delicious biscuits.  Maggie got the hambone and now I am worried she may get choked. She seems to be having a blast on the den floor at the moment despite my fears, though.  I guess I just need to take a chill pill.  Dogs have been chewing on bones for millennia. 

I am learning I am getting to know the real Helen lately. There have been a few shocking revelations. Not the shy, quiet housekeeper who cooks my parent’s meals and cleans their toilets whom I’ve known for the past decade or so.  She's been letting her hair down with me so to speak about her life and what motivates her. I am sure everybody’s family dynamics are different and unique. Helen’s are especially so. But that’s for her to share and not I. My mantra for me lately is to talk to me and I will listen.  I will refrain from judging. Dad and I both suffer from the same predicament that can prove to be detrimental – we look like easy “cry on your shoulder” targets.

Closing on Joyce's House…

“You mean you have black people moving in the house next to you?” I could just hear my late grandmother whisper and gasp in her younger years.  “There goes your property values and the neighborhood. And they will steal you blind!”

Memaw (mom’s mother) was as old school as they get, and from a different era in the South as well, but I still think that is a lame excuse for being a racist and racism.  I met my new neighbors yesterday afternoon and they are perfectly respectable people.  I told them that I would be glad to help them with moving any big ticket items if they needed an extra hand. They spent hours moving in yesterday and I know how tiresome and nerve wracking that can be.  I thought I would never get moved into this house as well. 

The Mowing Man…

I was really very pleased when someone called about mowing their lawn yesterday afternoon. I think the lady could hear the excitement of getting work in the tone of my voice. It was a smaller job as well and the time flew by as I mowed. They had received one of my  business cards in their bag of prescriptions. 

“I know you are going to do a good job since you are John’s son,” the elderly lady told me smiling glowingly.”I’ve traded with him for twenty years. He’s a very good man.” 

Lately, a lot of people have knocked on my door soliciting mowing my own lawn. It is obtrusive and aggravating.  I got so tired of that and vowed only to get the word out about my lawn care business by my business cards and through the grapevine.  I am taking more of a passive approach to my business. Aggression need not apply.

My Concerted Effort…

Maggie and I took our little jaunt throughout the neighborhood around lunch when I arrived home from volunteering.  I am trying to make a concerted effort to get the Maggins and I some daily exercise.  Maggie can sleep all day and I can vegetate in front of all my interconnected gadgets as well. I kind of hurried things along today, though, as it was thundering all around us. Maggie’s meets and greets were shortened.  If I get wet, then I will melt.  Maggie probably feels that same way as well.  I’ve never seen a dog more adverse to water in my whole life. If I turn the water on in the tub then Maggie will fly out and sit out in the yard avoiding a bath at all costs. Even if it means sitting out in the hot sun for an hour.

I just have gotten back from my parent’s house as well.  I had told mom to get Helen to prepare some of those 1/4 pound Hebrew National hotdogs for lunch today.  My mother and Helen both agreed that it was one the best tasting hotdogs they had ever eaten.

“At a dollar a frank then they should be,” I replied with a goodhearted smirk. 

As the old saying goes… You get just about what you pay for something. Helen wrapped two hotdogs in aluminum foil and sent me on my way. Those two hotdogs didn’t last 10 minutes in my house.

Linus's Comfort Blankets…

Dad asked me pointblank why I wear my baseball caps all the time last night. He admitted that it has been bothering him for months and even years! You rarely see me without one on when I am out of the house or about town. This has been a source of contention for my father and I a lot lately -- the deal that concerns my often haphazard outward appearances. 

“They are like Linus’s on Peanuts comfort blankets for me,” I told him reiterating and explaining who Linus was. “They are a comfort and soothe me.”

“But you have the most beautiful hair out of all my children by far,” dad responded almost as if he was pleading.  “You’re wasting that uniqueness by hiding under all those caps.”

One of the main reasons I wear them as I can be persnickety about my hair and hate using all that hairspray to keep it looking neat.  I take a shower, dress, throw on a cap, and I am out the door.  I guess it is simple laziness to be honest.  It sure makes getting ready for volunteering easier and certainly faster.

Who Let the Dawgs Out?

I had lost track of the time last night. I had learned that I can use my iPad like a Kindle with iBooks and was reading some comics I downloaded. I then realized I hadn’t seen or heard anything out of Maggie for over an hour. It was eerily quiet in the house and outside. You could’ve heard a pin drop on my hardwood floors.  I checked the back porch and she was sound asleep outside. Bless!  It was a very beautiful, starry and cool night last night – a good night for a dog to take a nap on his/her porch. 

“Now if you don’t start barking then you can stay outside,” I told her to myself softly giving Maggie a little leeway.  

Thunder Nor Fireworks…

Annabel's writing always interests me when she talks about her dogs being afraid of bad weather.  I bet there are some big storms in the panhandle of Texas. Specifically lightning and thunder.  Thunder nor fireworks don’t even begin to faze Maggie and this always interests my father.  His childhood dog, Rex, was terribly afraid of storms as well. When I went to bed, Maggie was lying in the den floor playing with one of her plush toys as fireworks went off like crazy outside.  It sounded like a warzone. I left the soft light on in the den and retired. I heard Maggie jump up on the bed a little after midnight as things calmed down and I drifted off back to sleep. 

Let’s Get Back to Normal…

I love the holidays and all, but I am equally ready to get back to the daily grind that is my everyday existence. There is comfort in the sameness for me.  Don’t throw a monkey wrench in the works as all hell can break loose. Today’s Motto: Don’t ask me how that tenacious porn popup got on my computer just a moment ago.  Yes, Ubuntu Linux and Firefox are not infallible and yes, some of our clients enjoy the more risqué side of the Internet. 

Hotdogs/Hamburgers On the Doorstep…

Maggie and I were just finishing up our walk throughout the neighborhood.   Maggie did her standard canine meet and greet with all the neighbor’s dogs.  I told Maggie, “If your tail wags any faster, then it is going to fall off.” She kept on strutting.

As we walked under the front stoop of my house, I noticed a big grocery bag hanging from my front door.  Charlie had left treats of charcoal grilled hamburgers and hotdogs. The bag felt hefty much to my anticipation. He called me shortly and said it worries him when I choose to stay at home on such events.

“You could’ve come to our house,” Charlie told me.

I said I was perfectly happy to be comfortably at home.  One man’s painful solitude is another man’s blessing and I was quite content.  I thanked Charlie for the food,  though.  It was a true treat with all Charlie had going on today – that he would have the time to do something so nice for me,

Tuckered Out!

Grocery Day on a Sunday?

Yes, lightning can strike in the same place twice. And yes, it sure will be a true special treat to get my groceries a day early this week. I will buy things I normally wouldn’t buy with my own money with my disability allotment. Mostly staples for the pantry.  Canned Goods, etc.

“Now, you’ve got to make this last the whole week,” mom said over the phone tersely, forgetting about my own savings.

My mother had called me late yesterday evening to coordinate the disability grocery shopping experience during the holidays. Mom was fretting that the grocery store would be closed on the 4^th. I usually get two gallons of whole milk for the week, but decided to use the money of one gallon to get more Hebrew National beef frankfurters which I am completely addicted to at the moment. It is around $4.00 for four franks. That’s the only big change this week. 

Helen’s Bank is Getting Testy… 

Martha’s Savings and Loan was complaining, whining, and crying last night again that Helen always borrows money from her.

“She borrowed $30 dollars yesterday,” mom said complaining. “She always pays me back, but then borrows more money again.”

I stay out of all that rigmarole and the crosstalk. As does my father. All mom has to do is say no, but she is too softhearted and malleable like me. We tend to carry the burdens of the world on our shoulders willingly and then bitch about it later after voluntarily taking on such a job or gargantuan task. It is a certain curse we bear. 

“Helen’s car is even nicer than mine!” mom snarled bitterly and retorted about Helen’s GMC Yukon before I got off my crackberry.

Helen better watch out as my mother is one of the most driven and determined women in this world I have ever seen when she gets motivated and sets her mind to something. 

One of These Days Maggie and I Are Going to Get on the Same Page and Walk the Same Path…

Bless Maggie’s little heart this morning.  We finally went for our much delayed walk. She was really strutting her stuff in front of the other dogs in the neighborhood. I want to make a habit of this as well as I’ve been much too sedentary as of late – spending much of my time in front of computer monitors and iPads.  Maggie also continues to improve as far as walking on leash is concerned.  She also no longer chokes herself pulling on the leash realizing she just needs to take it slow and go with the flow.

A Mountain of Things…

I told Charlie Jokingly last night that he is building a mountain of things.  More junk went into his house next to me last night.  You almost can’t move inside the interior of that house now.  Charlie gave me $20 and told me to go get us some sodas and hamburgers no doubt to divert my attention.  I got us a sack full of cheese Krystals and some cokes.

I got in the bed long after midnight and could still hear Charlie moving stuff.  Charlie is just one of those people that never seems to sleep. If I had just driven thousands of miles, I would still be in bed for days at this point.  But I am scared of driving so that would be somewhat excusable for me.  It would be a nerve wracking affair for me to drive straight across this country. Can you ever believe I was a long haul truck driver at one point in my life? Driving 3000 lb. cars scares me when I used to drive an 80,000 lb. big rig.

“What was the most interesting thing about your trip?” I asked my father earlier last night as we sat on the couch and sadly watched what was left of our once beloved The Weather Channel.

“There was still snow on the ground in Colorado and the Rockies,” my father told me. “That thrilled me to death!”  

“Ah,” I replied. “That would have fascinated me as well.”

I am not sure what I am doing for the 4th of July.  Charlie will no doubt grill his signature ribeye steaks. I always have the greatest hopes they will bring scraps for Maggie as well so she won’t be left out.  If not, then I will give her some of mine.  The last time Charlie brought ribeyes he brought two for me with a big bag of table scraps for Maggie,

Two Tastes Made In Heaven For Each Other…

Helen cooked a delicious supper this afternoon. I was just too greedy and hungry to stop and take a picture for the blog.  We had pear salad, cornbread, rice pilaf, steamed broccoli, butterbeans, and Helen’s baked zesty chicken tenders.

Nadine Knowles…

That’s the name of the person whose cookbook Helen wanted me to find.  I think dad has a copy and Helen gets much of her recipes from that book.  Hopefully, soon, y’all will be seeing more of Helen’s recipes every Friday.

Fridays Are Always a True Treat…

I am not sure if Helen is cooking today (hope so. will post a picture if she does), but  every late Friday afternoon without fail mom buys me a treat after her usual hair appointment since the Piggly Wiggly is in the same shopping center as Rhonda’s hair salon. V-8 juice or ice cream?  That is the question.  Mom encouraged me to get the V-8 Juice today since it is healthier (which is dubious as it has so much sodium).  It seems that anything that tastes good is bad for you. You can pry my pan of cornbread and fried okra from my cold dead fingers.

“Don’t forget the large bottle of Louisiana style hot sauce,” I happily told my mother in anticipation.

“I don’t know how you can eat so much of that stuff,” my mother replied.

I like my V-8 juice cocktail fiery spicy hot – the kind of spicy hot that makes you literally cry and sweat.

Flying In On A Jet plane…

Dad arrived home late, late last night from Atlanta’s airport.  He called me after midnight even though I was already in the bed.  I have never been more genuinely happy to hear my father’s voice in my whole life. I missed him so much. I told dad to really brag on Helen for the good job she did when he was gone. Bless her! She made my father being gone much more palatable.  Mom isn’t exactly running over here to sit with me like Helen did this past week and dad normally does as well. Mom stayed in bed for most of the time my father was gone

“There is a side of Helen you will probably never know,” I told my father.

Dad was anxious to be let in on the secret.

“It is up to her to tell you,” I told my father. “But Helen is a very interesting person.” 

Dad told me I was being a big tease. Dad is also Helen’s boss so it is doubtful he will ever get let in on the secret. I promised Helen that mum was the word.

That Old Ball and Chain…

I really don’t think of volunteering in that way.  I have enjoyed going in most days and do what I do best and that is working on computers.  I also have a bad habit I inherited from my grandfather.  I like to tinker. Sometimes that can get me into trouble as well – not leaving well enough alone. Now my ex-wife? She was truly the ball and chain in my life at that time. It was stifling. Volunteering is like a walk through the park compared to being married to Rachel two years.