Clogged up...

After the guests left yesterday afternoon I did what I always do: check the toilet. (I look for stains or any sign of malfunction in the mechanics.) Big mistake. The flushing mechanism was sluggish and I had to flush a couple of times to get it working smoothly again. My wife, of course, called me weird for having 'issues' with this sort of thing. So wouldn't you know it-I had one of my classic 'toilet' dreams toward the end of last night complete with the odors, the cramped quarters with other people milling about and the inability to produce in a reasonable amount of time without pissing off the people who were waiting. At least it didn't include, as it usually does, overflowing toilets. I hate these dreams because you wake up in such a humiliated mood. Thankfully, I don't have them more than once every four or five months - but why do they keep recurring at all?...

Keeping it simple....

I just discovered an amazingly simple to make, tasty and healthful desert: pour some Corn Flakes into a bowl. Dribble some pure Vermont maple syrup over the top and fill the bowl with fresh skim milk. This tastes so good it's hard to believe. Does anyone have the guts to serve it in place of, say, a carrot cake? I'd enjoy it even more....(you could also cut a few thin slices of fresh banana over the top.)

"Designer " genes....

I looked in the window on the door of my granddaughter's preschool class and I saw her sitting at the head of the table with another girl wgho is also her friend. Her skin tone is similar to mine and her personality is too: a little shy, a lirttle introverted. Then I thought her hair is kind of like mine, too, though not as curly. I thought: there I am, sitting there, 65 years ago. My 'genes' will live on beyond me! Then I thought about my daughter's son, B, and that he bears a resemblance to pictures I saw of my mother's brother, Oscar, at his age. How the genes become blended and passed forward through the ages! What a miracle it all is....and what hope it gives us.

In other words....

I just returned from a weeklong visit with my son and daughter-in-law and their two children.

High points: my granddaughter S expresses her love for me by smiling up at me, grabbing my forearms and hopping up as high as she can on my thighs, like a little hoptoad, smiling in my eyes the whole time. At another time, she was down on her knees grabbing my leg and pretending to take a bite out of it,

My son went out of his way to change the defective windshield wiper on my car and when I expressed pleasure using his bread knife he told me to take it. The next morning I noticed he had wrapped it in brown paper and tied it with an elastic band so it would be safe to pack away.

My daughter-in-law cooked a deliciuous meal and provided me with a couple of very funny and insightful blogs.

My wife baked delicious hamantaschen (Haman's hat) with my granddaughter.

I told my son that I would always love him until my last day.

We all have different ways of expressing our love, sometimes in other than words.