October 2008

My earliest memory of grandparents in my life is seeing the green stationwagon parked below as a peered out my bedroom window. I remember that the sight of that car made very peaceful and content inside.

The smell of new leather car interiors  has an immediate connection with my grandma.  Maybe it is because I loved sitting in her back seat and smelling her car smells.

Grandma was sharp as anyone I know.  When I last saw here she was spouting off names and birthdays of grandchildren with pinpoint accuracy.

Grandma gave me a love for the world.  She gave me a subscription to National Geographic World as a young lad. She also loved maps.  Always was curious of different people and distant lands. I caught her bug.

Grandma made some good food that always made my belly happy.

Grandma was a pack rat…I have gone into recovery over this matter and am doing better these days.

Grandma loved people and I would have never guessed her to be an only child.

Grandma house was always a place of comfort, rest and inner peace.

Grandma was a great listener.

Grandma will be missed

I hope she is really enjoying herself in the Great Hereafter

PS. One of my favorite grandma stories is the time she nailed a cow in the road just down from her house.


Bizzaro Week

Celebrated year # 12 with my best friend, helpmate, advisor, counselor and all around amazing person

Had a mid-term and got a 42.  Maybe the 4 coffees short-circuited something ?  Man was I bummed on that one. I aced the middle part of the test but grammar….not so hot.  I asked the teacher if I need to drop. She really came alive and said no. She said stay with us you are doing good, just keep practicing and you’ll make it.  If you go to the other class you’ll not be challenged.  For the first time since we started she poured out some encouragement.   Its prolly the first time I got an F and came away encouraged! The goal is not the grade but good communication skills. Right?

I almost bit it on my scooter. A bus pulled in front of me so I hit the brakes…on top of a mess of oil mixed with the rain that was pouring down.  Thankfully I just stopped talking on the cell phone.  The bike started to fishtail and it wanted to dump but I prevailed. I waved to the bus driver for not running me over as a pulled in front of his rig.   After my heart rate came down to 179 I was thankful for all the practice I had with bikes and ice in Buffalo, NY.

Whilst studying the medical chapter in my text I came down with a case of  la duzi.  The translation is “to pull ones belly” Get it? Yeah not too fun.

Put down the book “The Shack”.  I just couldn’t read any more about page 152….I just found myself going to the end to see what was going happen.  It was slow…it seemed a bit ripped off ….I would very much like to hear the guy’s own story….it sounds very interesting…the book was just too predictable…OK I am a hardened crusty old man…..

Honestly, another week of intense language work scares…me.    BOO! Trick or Treat