Burrs and other sticky things

There's a lot going on outside my fence.  Critters are moving in and I'm making friends.  That's not Mom's favorite thing, though.  When I come back in the house I look like I have Chicken Pox with all the round stickers stuck ALL over my furry little body.  It takes her absolutely forever to pluck them out. 

This morning already she's late for work.   I told her to make sure to tell you that I love you, too.   She always tells me what you say but sometimes forgets to tell you what I say. 

You have lots of friends everywhere.  I even tell my friends on the back slope about you.   They don't have grandparents that they know about so they are very much in awe of me.  I told them I would share you with them.  They are squirrels, possums, kitties, bunnies, a couple of rats, some crows, a sparrow or two and...oh, I forget.  But they said to tell you they love you, too.

Kisses,

Mary-Margaret

GRANDPA'S STATS

Until things get all sorted out and Mom finds the password to your stat counter, you can still see it this way.

Click on the link in the upper right hand corner of this page where it says "Grandpa's Stats".  You should be able to see all the people all over the world who are looking at your paper just like you used to.

[Update]  Mom found the password.  No need to give it to her technologically advanced brothers anymore, though, since she let me put it on my blog as a direct link.

Love,

Mary-Margaret

RPT

RPT means "Rancho Physical Therapy". Mom had an appointment there yesterday. We used to go there last year but quit until yesterday. Everyone remembered ME and my name. Only one person remembered Mom and he had forgotten her name. I am very useful in validating my Mom's existence, don't you think??

She got some "traction", think that's what it's called. But she was so out of whack they didn't do anything else to her and her whole back hurt this morning. I napped. She gasped for air a lot and they put a thing on her finger that measures pulse and oxygen levels.

When we got back to the car she started wheezing again. Her asthma is pretty bad. The doctor came out to the parking lot to talk to her (and probably to make sure she wasn't going to pass out on his property), and they kept on yakking while ignoring ME. I can only stand that for so long, so I started talking, too. The more I got ignored, the louder and chattier I got. Finally Mom barks at me, like "HOW RUDE, Mary-Margaret. Be quiet!". The doctor jumped back a little and I sat down fast. She gets scary when she gets aggravated.

I got picked up out of my car seat and I sat on my mom's lap. At least I was face to face with the doctor so we could communicate with each other. Mom was quiet this time and me and Dr. Holman finished up our conversation. He said "See you next week, Mary-Margaret!" and I'm pretty sure he said good-bye to Mom, but not certain.

She drove us home and we had hamburgers for dinner. Tonight I get left-overs and she'll probably have a chicken pie or something. Today is our day of rest. I will nap and she'll do bank statements.

Love,

Mary-Margaret

Dear Grandpa....

First off, let me say that me and Mom really love you. You're our family and there isn't anything we wouldn't do for you.

That being said, Mom's pretty upset about your conversation last night. When Grandma died, it was my mom and me that came to your house and helped you figure out your credit cards, your bills, your bank account and all the paper work. We cleaned, did laundry and took valuable time away from our own business responsibilities. We didn't ask you for anything. We did it because we care about you.

When you wanted to get your report out to the world, it was my Mom that acquired your web site (called a domain), designed your website Photon-Nonphoton Universe and put your information together so everyone could see your theory. You get a lot of pleasure from looking at your statistics, thanks to your daughter, Michele.

We drove you to the market, to the bank, and wherever you wanted to go and we never expected anything from you. We still don't.

Your apartment is in desperate need of cleaning. It's a health hazard to most living creatures except maybe cockroaches, and it's stinky poo to high heaven. But you don't even let anyone into your apartment any more. You could have help. Even if you just had someone clean your bathroom and wash your towels, it would make a difference. But you say you're happy in your stinkiness and you won't even consider having anyone help. And you act like it's a big joke.

Your driver's license is expired and Mike suggested that Mom try to help get you a California identification card, which is an absolute necessity if you want to cash checks, or have anything notarized, and sometimes if you want to use a credit card. An expired driver's license is not acceptable or legal. And you yelled at Mom. You pretty much accused her of wanting you to die. You really hurt her feelings. All she's ever tried to do was be kind to you and take care of you. I bet my Grandma wouldn't be very happy with how you are treating my mom.

You know me. I hate to get in the middle of human stuff and I will love you forever, and you can't say anything much that will hurt my feelings. On the other hand, my mom is a sensitive, loving, caring, giving person who truly appreciates her family, what's left of it. She would like nothing more than for you to take responsibility for your own business, for you to make and secure your own plans for your future, and for you to take care of your own personal hygiene.

Once you're gone, that's it. You don't get to make choices any more. Whatever happens, happens. Death comes without warning...without invitation. And your final expenses probably won't get paid because you haven't assigned a beneficiary to any of your bank accounts and you don't want to think about it. You have no signed will, so how does anyone know what you want? And who you trust to follow your wishes? Or who could legally do it? Five years ago, Mom spent days with you typing exactly what you told her you wanted and it's still there, on the buffet, unsigned. What was the point?

Good luck, Grandpa. I personally hope you outlive all of us.

Mary-Margaret

April 2013 - Yorkie Times

THE YORKIE TIMES

Be the first in your neighborhood to read this new issue. Happy April, everyone!!

Your very good friend.....

Mary-Margaret