I'll be heading out the door soon to take dear sweet grandma to the docs. I guess when you're older, you go to the Dr. about as often as you get your hair done, it seems. She is not thrilled either, and sometimes(she being my superior and scary to boot)-it is a snapping turtle-like adventure convincing her, that yes-we must go. But she loves me, always feels like she is causing me trouble...nah, just doing for the woman what she has always done for me-accommodated, made time.
And I do need to throw the gauntlet down here. My brother-a Big Lebowski clone-he abides, just abides usually...but for some reason he seems to be whimping out on me. I have invited him here, asked him to share this space with me for some dueling banjo-like blogging. See-he is a writer, a Vonnegut- Soupy Sales type. Lives there in the Keys, likes to rub it in that he has a sunburn in January, a real PIA. Anyway-what about it brother? Show some skin buddy, there are no sharks hear, big fish occasionally-but, what are you waiting for? Bring it. Tick tock, tick tock...