Don!

Still hanging in there, despite stroke and loss of appetite!  Appetite had returned and he's sitting around all day with the best of them!  Whoot!

Don at Air Force Museum 7

Some things never change - Dad still hates astronaut figurines!

Don at Air Force Museum 6

Dammit! Stop it, Mr Freedom!

Don at Air Force Museum 5

"Are we at Friendly's...what?"

Don at Air Force Museum 4

Don says he trained in one of these.

Could well be thinking of driving to CVS, but whatever.

Don at Air Force Museum 3

In full Twilight Zone "Terror at 30,000 Feet" fashion, pity the early space explorer who looked out his porthole to see some ancient monkey-man peering back, saying "Cat's out!"

Don at Air Force Museum 2

Don with a Sputnik.

"That's where we got your name! Your mother wanted 'Sput'..."

Don at Air Force Museum 1

It was a big day for my dad...he was quite ready to leap into the breach to defend YOUR freedom. Apparently.

Oh, Don

Poor Don has been sick all week. BUT that does not have anything to do with the fact that he has big trouble taking his meds correctly. I have suggested that I come with a rifle and hold it to his head three times a day so that he "remembers," but we both know this is a bit impractical. And, hell, he remembers to eat about half the time, so taking pills really IS a lot to ask.

Anyway, this was a mindblower, and I must share. I expect a lot of "oh, poor Don" from all you anonymous lurkers, but tough - I'm over there six days a week, so it's not like you need to call Adult Protective Services on my (pale, shapely) ass. Also, any thoughts of timers or noisemakers are useless because 1) nerve deafness precludes his hearing any high-pitched beeps and 2) he will ignore them anyway.

SO: he has a pill case with his morning and evening pills in it. He only screws up/misses a dose maybe once or twice a week. However, he needs to take an anti-dizziness pill (meclizine) and a blood pressure pill (coreg) in the middle of the day. Dizziness is his biggest gripe. So I lay these two out every Thursday on a little round tray, all paired up and in a flower-clock of seven days, thusly:

Monday (and keep in mind: pills are laid out on Thursday evening so Friday, Saturday, Sunday...six pills should be gone) I come in the kitchen and glance and see this:

Squirrels came through maybe? Jesus! Also, the ovoid pill, dead center, isn't even one that gets laid out on the tray but something from the pill case. So I then picture half his meds just falling from his old-ass maw like ciabatta crumbs. If you are a drug person, go over with a dog to sniff around the carpet and you won't have to score for a month.

I'm going to set my timer here to remind me to call every day at two (probably interrupting a nap) and say take the pills, because if I'm not the problem there is no solution. Etc.

Don's morning!

"I woke up and thought it was Sunday so I started dressing for church, then I got the paper in and saw it was Thursday, so I went back to bed."

Suck it, Cy

Here's that painting my dad did of Po's cat that has been sweeping the internet:

All I want to say about yesterday's hellish trip to a neurology office

My poor mom was at the neurologist's yesterday. It was terrible. No one is any worse, though. Just the trip itself. Call any of my friends I bothered about this yesterday for details; I'm too wiped out to type it all out.

BUT!:

Don [closing WebMD magazine in waiting room]: "Can I ask you
something?"

Me: "Sure..?"

D: "What's a 'Facebook'?"

Me: "What's a Facebook...well, do you know what a web site is?"

D: "No."

Don is 88!

The Bride is unsure whether she's sitting next to me or not...

Don in winter!

Check the poignant February, 1979-ish light in which this kid basks! FRESH!

Cereal -- FOR LUNCH!!