Helaine is shopping. She has time for shopping because she’s already baked. She is in catering mode. She is driven. She can’t not give 100%.
My father would like to lose weight. He’s coming to the wrong place.
We’re in the last 23 hours.
I’ve vacuumed the sofa on the patio then Windexed the table top. Good grief the air is filthy here. It’s natural filth–mainly dust particles blown in from the desert. Still, the paper towel I used turned black with grime.
One bird related spot needed removal. I am hazmat.
The Mouseketeers used to say, “Neat and pretty!” That’s the goal.
Southwest just emailed. His flight has free TV. “Charge your iPad,” I wrote.
Even if there’s nothing to watch, he’ll want the satisfaction of making it work on his tablet. The Foxes are tinkerers. My dad used take the back off TV sets to troubleshoot them, though not in the last 45 years.
Is there still a tube tester at the drugstore?
The WiFi cable box has left my office and crossed the wall to the spare bedroom. Helaine found a large digital clock. It’s there too.
Additional artwork from Connecticut has been brought upstairs and hung. In Geoff’s world upstairs and hung aren’t always simultaneous.
Helaine’s getting a few nightlights while shopping.
“I usually go to bed around 8:30 or 9:00,” my dad said this afternoon on the phone. He fades. Tomorrow’s bedtime probably 7:00 PST?
Times have been especially tough for my dad. We hope ‘sunshine therapy’ will be helpful.