Fix it and go hmmmmm. The translator that the Vatican hired to do the translation on the Old Testament …. they didn’t like the literal translation at all. Interesting website, I recommend it.

The car is now ours. The DMV experience took less than 45 minutes, probably close to half an hour. This is what living in a small southern town can do for you. Rural has its benefits. No “take a number and sit down” waiting periods. Just a few minutes in a line and then the administrative part is done. It was amazing — knowing the car is ours now and we are true and complete owners of a car — after three years.

Now we’re off to pick up a 79 year old friend who is hosting his own retrospective — photography over the last 40? or more years. We’re going to get his photos (framed) and put them on the wall at the Arts Council. His show is on Friday. He’s got the food planned, sent out real invitations to the event and we’re hopeful to have a crowd of 25-30 people show up. He’s obviously nervous about the event. Is going to Walmart to buy new jeans and a new shirt for the event! His name will be on the Arts Council marquee and that, I believe, is the crowning achievement of his whole lifetime.

I spoke with the director of the Arts Council over a month ago about the name on the marquee thing and she was so enthusiastic about it. I hope they come through with their marquee promise.

We hung the over 30 photographs and the arts council walls are glorious. His photographs really shine, his talent is obvious. He seemed very gratified by the placement and the outlay of the photographs. Each one is framed. They are not truly for sale, but he’d sell anything, just like the rest of us, if someone wanted it. He can always reprint, well, in most cases he can reprint. Some of the photos are from film camera days, back when we all used 35MM cameras.

Now that the car is mine, in my name, the responsibility rests upon me in the way it was considered resting for the last six months. Here I thought responsibility for the car was with the legal owner, but oh no, it was with me, despite my not owning it. They could have saved a few insurance bucks if they’d done this sooner, but they care not about trivial amounts of what is spare change to them.

Now comes the cleaning out of the house. The benefactor’s home is filled with model trains, worthless coin collections (he bought those advertised “gold” mint coins that many people are sucked into buying, suffering under the false illusion the coins will increase in value. We have an 88 year old friend who also suffers from the same false belief and he buys them every month. Something should be done to stop this type of sale but it’s legal, so onward it goes) beds with good mattresses that need to go to the sons of the daughter and more. She and he will sort it all out in due fashion, it’s hard to be motivated into going through such a large amount of stuff and it’s all just that, STUFF.

The idea of emptying the benefactor’s home struck me right where I live. Literally. I feel a great amount of sorrow (ha) for whomever goes through my home when I pass away, as they say, but I say, when I die. I feel sorry that the daughters don’t know why some of this stuff is significant, the seemingly innocuous little Asian figurine that — came from my Uncle Floyd’s time living in Thailand right after WWII. Or the blue horses, the amazing blue horses, that mother nurtured and gently moved … I never thought to ask her where they came from, all those years with the horses being the objects of primary worth in her china cabinet, never thought to do anything but admire them.

And whatever happened to dad’s model of the Robert E. Lee paddlewheel? It was extraordinary and it disappeared when they left Fort Smith for Hot Springs back in 1980s. Why do we have certain books? Well, many of those old volumes were my grandfather’s college textbooks and he graduated from Ohio Northern University in 1899 so they’re old. Not perhaps worth any appreciable amount, but in terms of family worth, they’re priceless. The daughters won’t care, unless I begin to catalog these objects. Yes, I will, even though it seem overwhelming, I can do it. I need to catalog why, when, what, who owned it, why we still have it. Create a database and photos, I suppose, although that seems an easy task, in practice, it will take time. I’d do it lickety split if it was on paper, the digital idea sounds quick but hell… I should set it up and go to town on it. I would enjoy it. Cataloging mom and dad, grand parents and more.

That’s enough for today, less than 900 words. Today is  therapist day so I must prepare my brain for such conversation. I am also attending step-granddaughter’s track meet, the regional competition, after I go to therapy. It’s lovely outside, in the mid 80s, just fine and dandy for such an event. She will invariably win her competitions, as she usually does, unless something’s happened to interfere with her forward winning motion! I’m so proud of her, she’s a truly good kid at 16, perhaps a bit lonely but what a survivor. Next year she gets to be in band (started/transferred to this school too late in the year to join band but next year she will be in it, I’ve been assured). She has had a horrid childhood, when she lived with her mother, but is now with her father and my daughter, a stable, conservative in a good way, life. Conservative life means not going overboard, eating dinner together every night, not over spending, maintaining loving relationships — I will adapt that term, think of another to represent what I’m saying but I mean it in this way — living life without excess (spending, character traits, whatehave you). Excess that leads to over-extension. Excess that leads to stress. No screaming or arguing, sticking with each other through thick and thin.

Boy, I really went off on that. I’m proud of both daughters for living the life I showed them. Family dinners are monumental, social science studies prove that over and over again. Being available, listening, to your children — so important. Providing a stable environment, something step-granddaughter sorely needed, and other daughter has always provided for sons, these are important aspects of a successful childhood, the foundations of raising decent adults. Not that kids can’t surmount the obstacles in their path when they don’t have these things – just saying – having stable living conditions, knowing who your parents are from day to day, these are reasonably and arguably the most important aspects of raising kids right. I’m rambling. My blood sugar is level, I think, just had Greek yogurt, honey, blueberries and banana so that ought to be ok. We eat the same thing every day for breakfast.

Wow, now I’m up to over 1200 words. Today’s rambling truly went off the rails. From step-granddaughter to Greek yogurt in 400 words or less. True mind dump.

Speaking of dump — how about what’s going on in Washington? It’s not to drain the swamp, it’s to continue piling garbage on the dump we call government.

Clever. You can have that, whoever you are, you random unknown person reading this blog. If you are reading this, good for you. It is the mind dump of a 63 year old woman who has to clear her brain before moving forward each morning or sometimes afternoon. I leave the page open, type on it randomly for about 24 hours, then I close it and start a new page/entry. I know these aren’t pages, I understand blog terminology but it appears as a page when I’m typing on it, so suck it.

Daughter and husband are going to beach for weekend and leaving children at home to fend for themselves. Unbelievable. I keep my tongue firmly placed behind my teeth rather than say what I feel which is “Are you crazy?”. They leave Friday at 2:30, take ferry to island, come back Sunday morning. Boys are 12 and 13 and 12 year old has very many oppositional defiance disorders problems. Oldest is a sweetheart who tries to care for irrational 12 year old. Twelve year old is a consummate liar, knows how to cry on demand and manipulate all who come into contact with him. And yet, and yet, I adore him. I see through his failings and see a wonderful boy with a huge imagination.

Enough for today. I rest my case.


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About Me

An English diarist and naval administrator. I served as administrator of the Royal Navy and Member of Parliament. I had no maritime experience, but I rose to be the Chief Secretary to the Admiralty under both King Charles II and King James II through patronage, diligence, and my talent for administration. Also archivist and avid fan of The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature.


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