Rambling; adj: straying from one subject to another

I couldn't think of a better title for this post. I have a lot of loose ends to tie up so I thought I'd do it all in one post.

First of all, thanks to everyone for your well-wishes. I'm slowly getting better. I'm still blowing my nose every few minutes (where does all that crap COME FROM?). If that isn't bad enough, now my ears squeak like a dog toy every time I blow my nose. Luckily no one else can hear this noise, unless it's like a dog whistle. I wonder if I had a dog if he'd look like this if he heard that noise?



Every time I think I have my coughing under control, I break out in a coughing spasm. I love this when it wakes me from a sound sleep. It reminds me of the time I saw a magician at Great America. He called a large group of people up from the audience. Then he proceeded to hypnotize them all. Then he told them that they all had uncontrollable gas and they were farting and all this other embarrassing stuff. The hypnotized group were acting all crazy, like they could hardly stay seated because so much gas was escaping, some people were rolling on the floor, and then when the magician said it smelled, well, you could imagine - everybody started waving their hands in front of their noses. Why am I telling you all this? Because I feel like I've been hypnotized, only the magician is telling me to COUGH, even when I don't WANT to. It's not as funny as farting, granted, but the point is, having no control.

Jim hasn't gotten sicker, but he hasn't gotten better. So he coughs now and then, sneezes, and just feels crummy. But he takes his Ny-Quill and is out for the night.

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Which leads me to my next bit of news.

We decided to cancel our trip to the East coast. I was VERY, VERY disappointed. One of my best friend's son is getting married on the beach in Corolla, North Carolina. Our plan was to take our time driving over 6 days from Illinois to Virginia. We were going to camp in Virginia Beach, VA (the closest we could get) for three days. Then we were going to take the "Chunnel" under Chesapeake Bay to Chincoteague Island, VA, and spend three days there. That is one of my most favorite places in the world. I will have to do a separate post on just that place, along with Assateague Island.

Anyway, I called my friend, Vicki, and told her the bad news. We both cried. She understood why I wasn't coming, since she could tell how sick I was (since I still sound like Kathleen Turner). So I have to be at the wedding in spirit only.

Here are a couple photos of Vicki and me when she came in to visit last year. That's my granddaughter Lily at about 6 months old. Vicki and I only had about a 3 hour visit, but as you can see, we still had fun. We laugh a lot when we are together.





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My sister, Pam, was so touched by all your kind words over the loss of her dog, Nickoli. She said, "What NICE PEOPLE you have comment on your blog!"

I said, "But of course!"

Benny, her dog-in-waiting, did very well with his first heartworm shot. The first 48 hours are the most critical. Benny maintained his appetite and came through okay. Pam has been keeping in touch with Benny's foster mom all week. We will probably make another trip to see Benny right before he is due his second shot.

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My bathroom is super small in the trailer. It's like a tiny closet. A water closet! The dictionary reads, "water closet –noun.an enclosed room or compartment containing a toilet bowl fitted with a mechanism for flushing. (Origin 1745-55) Ours just has the toilet in it. The sink is outside of the tiny room. So when I walk into the bathroom, I barely have room to turn around, and sit down. When it's in the middle of the night I usually stumble in there in the dark and do my business with the lights off. Last night while sitting there I thought how this little room reminded me of a confessional (only I would be kneeling instead, uh, peeing), and (hang on folks, this really is leading somewhere) this reminded me of two confessional jokes.

1) Young Danny waited in line to the confessional to confess his sins. Finally it was his turn.

He entered the confessional, knelt down, made the sign of the cross and said, "Bless me father for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession. The other day I touched a girl's breasts."

Father Anthony said, "Was it Mary O'Leary?"

"No, Father."

"Was it Colleen Flannagan?"

"No, Father."

"Was it Kelly O'Connor?"

"No, Father."

"Well, then, say 3 Hail Marys, and 2 Our Fathers."

"Yes, Father."

Danny left the confessional and slid quickly in the pew next to his friend Tommy.

"Well," Tommy asked. "Whatcha' get?"

Danny grinned, "Three Hail Marys, 2 Our Fathers, and 3 good leads!!"





2) A drunken man staggered in to a Catholic church and sat down in
the confession box, but said nothing. The bewildered priest coughed to
attract his attention, but still the man said nothing. The priest then
knocked on the wall three times in a final attempt to get the man to
speak. Finally, the drunk replied, "No use knockin' mate, there ain't no
paper in this one either."