jingle bells

As my dear departed friend Mr. George would say "oh boy." On the golf course with a tough shot or in a jam at work, I can just see him saying that from the short time that I knew him. He died too young after retirement with his bride and those were some dark times. He is smiling in heaven even as his babygirl lays her mother in law to rest. Meanwhile me and his bride still meet at the sawmill and get the job done. Lab professionals are a dying breed due to increasingly automated equipment and big fish eating little fish where it's mostly automated yet still precise because a tech reviews the results. I remember the first time I saw that at Methodist North and wondered what was up with all that. We were still doing everything manually. They put us on Sunquest and the server crashed when all seven facilities went online. Back to paper. Like Dr. P always said: "Monkeys can do it." He is the one who introduced me to Sonia who followed Elaine and Dr. Price and a kazillion others who peered through microscopes for years looking at disease for the cellular level.

Stella found mama's long sleeve shirts all tucked into her suitcase that she personally delivered to the lab when I was off. Jo told me about it and I called to report that the "missing clothes" had been found! And then it rained and I didn't deliver last night. I called her right before bedtime and she was pretty much straight up NOT happy with me so it was a short conversation with a madass old man in the background. Seems as if I'm the devil now. Alrighty then! See, I get mellower after work and more able to have an actual conversation and that evidently freaks them out. My employer doesn't pay me to take care of aging parents because they don't live with me. I guess I could live with them? Umm. Nah.

Anyway, back to the suitcase. It was in my car along with the barnwood frame that Scotty made for me which I am getting estimates on since I have some wood left. After last night's drama I figured I'd just discreetly drop it off on the porch pre-dawn on the way to work. Only it looked like rain so I didn't. Daddy called to tell me he'd pick 'em up on the gator and I said I would just drop it off. He called back and asked me to come see their little tree that has a 60 year old porcelain angel on top...well, kinda. We looked at each other, not knowing what to say because our lives are what they are and we're all in this together. I told them about my strange experience with an escapee this morning but I think Daddy was asleep.

It rained a lot and it's cold so there's some happy duck hunters somewhere. Nobody much hunts around here because it's private and kept that way on purpose. Sometimes the balance of nature takes care of itself. The sloughs from the Forked Deer are to die for fishing spots in the spring and fall. I remember walking the trail with my brother one time trying to find the place where a body was buried..or so I thought. Shortly after that lots of people with dirt moving equipment fixed the levees and it was turned into a wildlife sanctuary a GMO farming operation. The landscape is absolutely gorgeous and perfect for a vineyard and organic farming. Lots of bluffs and whatnot if you know what I mean. The big headwater that blew out the levee between farm proper and city land was the one where I rode in a crackhead's truck to "safety." Goodbye neighbors! You're already in the book.

My friend Kathy sent me a Christmas card from south FL and it's sitting on my stupid little ancient Dell tower with a candle for emphasis. Nobody much takes the time to do that anymore and that's why the USPS is going broke...it's the ECard. Zuck you and keep the faith ^j^