Been up to see my colleen. Informed, she says she’s got some communicable disease. That’s a fine thing to tell me after all these many years living under the same roof together. She’d also said she has pneumonia to go with it. Tain’t nothing like doing things right. Then to add insult to my delicately conditioned emotional injury she says I mustn’t kiss her. Now just where am I supposed to get my sugar, I ask?
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Youngest daughter going up to see her Mom, helped her take a shower. Was good to hear they both cleaned up. {;^))
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Decisions, decisions, Frieda doesn’t like stuffed peppers. Herself not home I think I’ll fix some for myself. Yum-Yum!
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As certain maters continue on I must bundle our trash for tomorrows pick up. And as long as her Mostess isn’t here I must do it without description. This will never do. She’d better be getting well and back home soon. If there’s anything I dislike this arguing with only myself alone. Besides we haven’t finished the falling out argument we started fifty some odd years ago. Not by a long shot.
“Rainbows.”
Fernan
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1 comment:
Hope Frieda will be home and up to her usual self soon. You're cooking what you like as I did when John was gone and I made all those yum yum good salmon patties.
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