I usually spend the quiet of Sunday mornings down at the grands' counting pills while they're at church. Yesterday I got that done in time to haul the garbage off before our appointed pickup time. Pulling the wooden door behind me I checked to make sure it wasn't locked and I'll be damned. My security door key didn't work but I just assumed that Daddy had one on him and all would be well when we got home after doughnuts and eggs and a dilly bar run. Got a deal at the DQ because the server thought I said "sweet tea" instead of three boxes so we got 'em all for ten bucks. Two regular and of course one Heath. That's where the breakdown in communication happened with the cute little girl at the window. Daddy had been clutching his debit card ever since we left breakfast so he was ready to move onto his next destination. OCD is a horrid character trait. I try to take comfort in the fact that I'm about as lazy and idealistic as they come. I have Stafford fits, but only when I feel that the rights of others are being sacrificed at the feet of political pawns. And hell no. That does not include assault weapons of any kind OR the extra bullets OR an unlicensed handgun.
Mom sat in the car while we checked out the key situation only to find that he had two alike and neither of them worked. Plan B, of course, was to find a window I could crawl through. We circled the house and found one without a screen on the backside of the den. I pushed it forward (much nicer than mine) and crawled my fat butt right over the back of her recliner. I let him in and he proceeded to tell me to give him an allergy shot and yada yada. I got everybody settled and went on my way home. About five minutes later the phone rang and it was daddy wanting help to get her up. Lord help us all.
After that me and BG and all three of our dogs went down to Bubba's pen to check out the puppies. Border collies are beautiful dogs and just lovely little fluff balls as babies. These are six weeks and ready to go with only three remaining unsold. I felt bad about leaving ours in the car but I know exactly how it would go down if they go out so they watched from afar. Sally sat patiently on her chain in a cushioned chair enjoying her free time away from seven kids. That stuff will wear a girl out! The favorite part of my day now is seeing Hillary whoop some GOP ass and come out on top. Girl power ya'll. Southern women historically are tough in and of themselves. While the rest of the country was living their urban lives, we were knee deep in either fine china or poverty depending on race and state.
Growing up in a small community jointly owned by blacks and whites, it was nothing to me when Vernell strolled up into my fifth grade classroom with a pencil behind his ear. He got "bussed" from Bruce or somewhere so that we would be racially equal. Right..one guy from the hood and 20 middle class white kids. It all worked out though. Our mayor Mozella is still kicking and so are the grands. Home health comes and goes as we travel this journey. It's a hard one, ya'll. But you know what? It's what kids do to honor the ones who sacrificed for them.
Love ya. Mean it ^j^
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