Old news today …


I skipped a week of writing owing to the trip to Minnesota. If I had, it no doubt would have been to gush about Georgia, counsel Ellen and Tim how to handle Emma, and thank them for allowing me to invade their space. But that was already stuff they knew anyway. Suffice to say as with all new parents, their’s is an active household.

Makes me wonder how any of us oldsters coped.

———————–

May 15, 2015

Ellen/Reid: By the time this arrives in Minnesota, odds are I’ll already be there. So it goes. Can’t wait to see the little I-like-to-stay-up-at-night (all night) girl. Really looking forward to it. Ellen, I’ll snag Emma’s present while I’m up there but will bring some books along in my suitcase. I really don’t mind a hotel if that would make things easier for you all. I’ll also try to do most of the cooking if you are agreeable. Along with me will be ratty clothes to prep/work in your garden. My front porch lettuce is flourishing. But the paper guy tossed the Sunday paper into my tomato plant and broke it at the stem. Your dad is just as much at fault since I kind of positioned the illicit pot in his throw-the-paper alleyway. FYI … my first hearing with the HOA on my illegal tomato and basil pots is June 1. Wish me luck. They’ve taken whacko-ness to new heights.

I ragged Reid about his less than practiced method of holding Georgia. From the looks of it, Georgia's grandfather could use some baby holding work himself.

I chided Reid about his less than practiced method of holding Georgia. From the looks of it, Georgia’s grandfather could use a refresher on baby holding.

Had to buy a $5 sewing kit last week to re-do the hems in some golf pants. About the only needed to get needlework done in the past couple of years has consisted of reattaching a button here and there. Wasn’t certain what the other gizmos in the kit were beyond the needle and thread. Not sure if it says real men can sew, but the pants were given my best shot. If anybody judges a man’s sewing prowess by looking at golf pants hems, well, they have a real problem. I once sewed a Frostline Kit tent together back in the early ‘70s and it took weeks and weeks of slave labor to get it done, along with countless seams that had to be reworked. That was quite enough sewing for me. Tim might have the green gaiters that were hand sewn, too. Those turned out pretty good.

The young reporter from the local NPR radio station won a Murrow Award for his story on his walk-along with me about pickupyourpath.com. The WFAE-FM program manager plays in my Golf for One group on Meetup.com and broke the good news. I’m tickled for the young guy because it’s a feather in his cap. He knows he is still owed a beer by me and now we’ll have something to really celebrate. Thanks, Reid, for your help with the GPS thing. I’m not totally in tune with it but it sounds intriguing. Normally my phone doesn’t make the trip, but it will now. There’s just so much about technology that I am utterly scared stiff of knowing. That’s a real fault.

Shot 77 on Sunday, my best score in about a year. Not that I’m hitting the ball that much better, but the grass is green and the ground is hard which gives me that extra roll. The guy with me, another David, shot even par 72 and if he could putt a lick he’d of been in the 60s with ease. He’s one helluva ball striker. It was a beautiful day, as most spring days are. But it will be in the 90s one week from today, so best prepare oneself to sweat profusely.

An invasion of ants is trooping through the window where the bird feeder is. They obviously are drawn to something in the kitchen (at least something likes my food). At least they aren’t fire ants and have been dispatched pretty easily. In fact, I’m looking at a couple of the little critters as we speak. They won’t be around long.

The cleaning crew is here right now. They do make life a little easier and a lot more bearable. They seem to get the spots I miss. Ellen, I’ll have the first installment for your cleaning crew with me when upon arrival on Thursday, so you’ll be covered. It’s the least you and Tim deserve.

Looks like my next excursion to Charleston will have to wait at least a month or so. Perhaps when they circulate the vacation sheet again I’ll snag another Friday for an up-and-back trip. You’d think exhaustion would be the best impetus to skip such tiring jaunts, but I’m already game for it. Sometimes a person just doesn’t learn. But if I’m gonna have friends over for blackened redfish, I’d better catch one or two more. Now the heat to produce will really be on.

Love, Dad

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