Gone, But Not Forgotten
Whenever my siblings have been visiting, it’s always so quiet when they leave. It’s not, of course, that they are boisterous or demand a lot of activity. It’s just that Bill and I live a very quiet (read, dull) life. So as soon as Bec pulled away from our house yesterday morning to head back home to Arizona, the quietness settled around me. As is typical of all visitors, Bec forgot a few things: the cherries and grapes she had bought to eat on the road, her water bottle, and other things that we will discover over the next few days. The worst thing that any of my siblings ever forgot was the time that my brother visited with his kids over some school break and they left our house for home at the crack of dawn, forgetting to take the school books they had brought along to study. They made it to Colorado Springs before they had to turn around and come back.
Bill continues to work on the playhouse. He assures me he is almost finished. Today he is putting up the siding. I have been joking with him that if we ever have a tornado, I’m going to go to the playhouse because it is most assuredly built stronger than the house in which we live. You know, homes built in the 70s and all……
Law and Order
This past Friday, Jen had to take Bec to the emergency room for a non-life-threatening situation involving her hearing aid (growing old is not for wimps), which, while not a bit dangerous, had to be taken care of. Unfortunately, the need didn’t arise until 10:30 that night, after they had both been going to bed. Off they went, and the situation was handled. As they were driving back home, Jen noticed flashing red and blue lights behind her. She pulled over, assuming the lights would speed by her, but ooooooh no; instead, a cop got out of the car and began walking over to Jen’s car. “Hello,” he said to Jen. “How are things going tonight?” “Not so good,” Jen assured the police officer. “We are just returning from a trip to the emergency room where I took my sister.” After checking to make sure Bec was breathing, he asked Jen if she realized that she had stopped her car at the last stoplight in the pedestrian walking area. Remember, it is past midnight at this point. As you can imagine, pedestrians abounded. Not. “No Officer, I didn’t,” Jen told him. He took her information, and then informed the perp that he needed to go check for outstanding warrants. Egads. Jen told him her alias was Grammie. (Not really, but seriously? Two grandmas wearing almost pajamas?) I’m happy to tell you there were no outstanding warrants. When they got home, Jen admitted two things to Bec. The first is that prior to the hearing aid situation arising, Jen had taken two Advil PMs. The second is that she hadn’t brought her cell phone with her. Since Bec learned while in the emergency room that her phone was nearly dead, if they had needed to have to place that one allowed phone call, they would have had to use Jen’s IPAD to Facetime BJ. Since then, Bill and I have both been cognizant that we nearly always stop in the pedestrian area. Little did we know that there is a police officer in Fort Collins who is enforcing the law one grandmother at a time.
I was all set to settle into my recliner yesterday evening to watch the news and perhaps catch up on some shows we have recorded. Suddenly my telephone dinged. A text message from Addie. “Are you coming to my softball game tonight?” Well of course I am, since you asked. How could I possibly say no? So following a dinner involving gyros, Bill and I headed north a couple of miles to watch Addie play ball. We didn’t stay for much of the game, but got to see Addie up at bat one time. She hit the ball, but was tagged out at first base. Well, at least she got a hit, I said to Bill. No she didn’t, he answered. Apparently if you are tagged out at first, it isn’t counted as a hit. Hmmmpf. That’s a stupid rule, and she got a hit in my book. Apparently she got a hit that even her papa would accept later in the game, and the team went on to win, coming back from a 10 point deficit.