Odd Day.

Cleaned the dining table today and put on a new table cloth. Looks ok but if the leaf is added, it's too short. In fact, I think all the table cloths are too short for the full-length of the table. Seems like poor planning but I haven't investigated in detail.

So I met the newest nephew today. He held one of my fingers. I declined to hold him; I was sweaty and just wasn't in the mood. He got released from the hospital a day early than expect. Not a bad looking kid and much quieter than I had anticipated for a newborn. The niece deliberately wet herself while I was at the grocery store. It's obvious to me she's having issues with no longer being "Miss Thang," center of the universe. Boo-hoo! Get over yourself and learn some words, you're going to be five years old! When her brother was her current age, or a month younger, just about when I met him he was pretty clear spoken. This girl needs schooling badly.

After groceries and a postal run (why is the flag half-staff?), I climbed out of the car at the drug store (the chemists, for the royal subjects reading) and at my foot was a credit card face down. The curious sort, I picked it up. Someone dropped his platinum card. He hadn't even signed it. I was going to turn it in at the store but I sized up the pair of employees and didn't want to trust them so I pocketed the card and took it home. I phoned the toll-free number on the back. I swear I was talking to India. After a couple disconnects while on hold, I left my name and number with some guy speaking clipped English and shredded the card as instructed. That was my good deed for the day I suppose.

At this point I'd eaten three saltine crackers and finally got back home. I settled on one of the pair of chicken caesar salads and fed mother the turkey frozen dinner she wanted.

I feel bad for the fish, their meals are off schedule. The invasion of relatives made the cat unusually nervous for hours after the coast was clear. Always the paranoid type, she's getting too old for that kind of trauma. At least I brought her crab munchies from the store. Maybe I'll share tuna with her.

Mother was coughing more. The SIL (sister-in-law) gave mother at least one cigarette when I was gone and left another with her when everyone left. I didn't bring death sticks from the store. I'd already had that conversation with Mother: won't buy them. The SIL is the ultimate enabler; what else do you call a person who gives f*gs to a pneumonia patient just one point above needing oxygen? Perhaps I don't understand. I'm not a smoker, the SIL is. Anyway, mother finished the oral steroid pill to help her breathing and has five more days of anti-biotics. I'm more serious about Mother's illness than I let on. It's troubling in that I honestly can say I don't know how many more she has in her until the inevitable.

We had blueberry muffins for 'snack'. My muffin was bland. I ate it anyway. I had two coffees today. I draw the line at that number. I'm not a coffee drinker. Not until this past week, anyway.

My brother's doctor has told him he's too old for push-ups. He's 36.

"Cowboys and Angels" is an amusing gay-themed (not really) film from Ireland. I say not really gay-themed because it has a few gay characters but that's not the center piece of the film but does play a part. I like the end voice over. I need to ponder it and myself.

On balance Ang Lee's films are ponderously boring. Each is like pulling teeth without the drama of having your face jerked from side-to-side or the mist spray of blood as the dentist saws a piece of jawbone for more room.

Canada makes a fabulous Wyoming. Beyond that, save your money on Brokeback Mountain. You might need it for some dental work.