Monday, May 29, 2017

Memorial Day 2017

Scenes from Memorial Day 2017:

You guys, my mom is making a spectacular recovery from heart surgery. Yesterday she was moved from ICU to a regular room. Probably she'll be going home Wednesday or Thursday. A week in the hospital following open-heart surgery...the 21st century kicks ass. She sounds great on the phone, she's able to walk around, and all of her readings are where they should be.

I tear up every time I think about this, or write about this, or talk about this. Guys, my mom is going to be OK. And your good thoughts and good wishes have helped me more than you'll ever know.

Me, with my Drunkards behind me.
Of course, me being me, I have another story to tell. I spent the afternoon of my Memorial Day replacing Bene's battery after he refused to start.

I've known for several weeks that my boy needed a fresh battery. He's been sluggish in starting, and I actually had to get a jump start from Katie's music teacher not long ago when he ran down after I played the radio on accessory for an hour.

I was supposed to get a new battery on Saturday. Somehow that didn't happen. (Somehow being code for I got super-lazy).

Fortunately, Bene has Roadside Protection, so I was able to get a jump-start and go get a new battery at...Walmart.

When you let your battery die on a national holiday, you go wherever is open. In my case, that meant Walmart. And to be fair, they were friendly and reasonably quick and didn't destroy my bank account.

PDaughter and I spent an hour wandering around Walmart while waiting for the battery to be replaced.  They have fricking EVERYTHING there. Rolling ice cooler? Check. Paint? Check? Pope John Paul II prayer candle? Check.

Customers screaming at their children, "You get your ass over there and keep quiet"? Yep.


On Friday I received the most beautiful floral arrangement from my corporate boss, along with a note of appreciation. Literally no one in my office could believe I had been sent flowers for no other reason than being appreciated for the work I do.

Ironic, seeing as how the real reason my corporate boss sent them was that I had earlier in the week vented to her about how no one in my office seemed to give a single shit about the work I do every single day.

Actual comments received:  Are they from your boyfriend? Is it your birthday? Did somebody die?

Never once did I say, "No, I just work with a bunch of unmannered jackasses, and she was expressing sympathy for my being treated like a potted plant day in and day out."

I'm classy, yo.

The flowers are so gorgeous, and I'm a thousand times appreciative of them.  Here are a few closeups of the bouquet:

Needless to say, the pictures don't do them justice. But they are beautiful and made me feel so good. love and respect for all those who have given their lives to protect and defend their country.

War is terrible, and the governments who start them are mostly terrible.

But the men and women who respond to their country's call and serve with honor and bravery...

They deserve all our respect.

Thank you for your service, whether or not I believe in the cause.

You deserve at least one day to be honored in our hearts.

Peace, Drunkards.

What did you do today?

1 comment:

  1. I spent the day reading and listening to music, which is just about the best way to spend a day, really.

    I am happy to hear about your mother. I can't even imagine the condition I'd be in if I were going through that, and I hope it's a long time before I need to know.


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