I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. ~Charles Dickens
Really Rambling and Disjointed ThoughtsDisjointed thought one.
I need to apologize to the USA Network. On Friday I chided them for killing my favorite TV detective. All of their adds for the final show lead me to believe they were going to kill him. But instead, at the last minute, they found an antidote for the poison, the bad guy committed suicide , Monk found a daughter of Trudy that he didn’t know existed and the ending was such a happy one.
So to the USA network I am sorry ,I doubted you.
You are really good people after all.
Now the door is open for some feature Monk specials or even a Randy series where Monk could guest star from time to time.
I am happy. The world is back in order.
Disjointed thought two
Aquabibs of the world unite.
I am tired of being on the bottom of the social pecking order because my glass has no alcohol in it.
I am not a freak or a religious fanatic ( well I might be a religious fanatic but not about drinking).
I am tired of remarks like “ What’s the matter drinking against your religion?” or “ You think your too good to drink”.
I am tired of trying to make my drink look like theirs.
I have made a rational decision that alcoholic beverages are not good for ME. I have a long family history and some very personal experiences I base this on.
My not drinking in no way judges or implies that anything is wrong with those who choose to drink.
So please stop trying to guilt me or shame me into drinking.
Disjointed thought three
Shopping on line can be weird.
I ordered gifts for my nephews and their families from a good company. They were willing to wrap them ( for a fee) and ship them directly to my nephews complete with a gift card. All I had to do was fill out the addresses. But here they wanted two things I don’t have, their e-mail and their telephone numbers. I never e-mail them. I never call them. I send them a birthday card ,a Christmas gift, and our annual really dumb letter. All I need is their address. Well the e-mail was optional so that was no problem but the telephone number was required. So I called my sister but of course she wasn’t home. So I had to go out on the web and find the numbers , which I did. But that used up a lot more time than the simple task warranted. The company really didn’t need those numbers.
Well now I have their telephone numbers for next year.
Some good can come out of inconvenience.
Or did I forget to write them down ?
Last disjointed thought
Walking on a treadmill is not the same as walking in Wal-Mart. When I walk on the tread mill I have a continuous supply of two liter oxygen making breathing possible. In Wal-Mart I would have to carry the little oxygen tank on the walker. At two liters continuous it does not last very long. On the scooter I set the tank on draw. I take only the oxygen I need and it lasts a couple of hours. The draw setting doesn’t work well for walking. So , for the moment, my freedom from the house is still scooter dependent.
Well the light is out in the stomach of one of the Santa Clauses hanging on main street. Somebody will have to get the extra long ladder and climb up and replace it, not an easy job . Eugene who is now the handyman at the Fly Inn has offered to do it. The town really doesn’t have any full time workers except Mrs. Trumble and the guy that cleans the streets. He, by the way, hates ladders.
Eugene has been working at the Fly Inn for several days now. He doesn’t seem to be tempted to return to drinking though his former drinking buddies are pressuring him to do so. It seems a sober Eugene makes them nervous. They like being drunk and still feel guilty about it. Eugene just smiles and sometimes he buys them a drink as a way of saying I don’t care if you drink.
Mrs. Trumble, however, thinks Eugene would be happier in some other job. She is going to go to the town council and try to get Eugene hired as the town handyman. She thinks the town owes him for the sacrifice he made when they were in the past.
Mrs. Pemberthy is happy having Eugene as a boarder. He has done a lot of the work her son hadn’t gotten around to. Plus he is so polite and kind. She makes him tea every afternoon when he gets home from work.
Next Monday Santa Claus will ride down main street. They have two real deer to pull the sleigh but they aren’t reindeer. They just don’t have a Santa Claus yet.
Somewhere in Pigeon Falls a little child tries to say something an adult said. What comes out sounds like babbling but is really an ancient language long forgotten.
The child said: