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Using my 40's as a do-over for my thirties, only smarter. I often mistake the bees and honey reference with the one about free milk and a cow. This might explain my whole life.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Misty water colors

It always cracks me up when people imitate turkeys. On one of my favorite radio shows, every year they call the Butterball turkey hotline and ask them how to catch a live turkey and kill it, and there is a turkey running around in the background, which is really just a guy making turkey sounds. It's a stupid little bit, but it cracks me up.

I am often, amused by stupid humor.

The ability to swallow is a big deal in hospitals. They have whole departments devoted to it. It's a big part of my job to make sure that patients are checked for thier ability to sip some water without choking after they have a stroke. So I thought we should make buttons to remind people of this important step that say "Do You Swallow?" I thought it was brilliant. People laugh when I tell them.
What does a girl have to do to be taken seriously?

Take the quick test here on the left to find out your risk for stroke.
Just do it.

So I have been getting along quite wonderfully with my estraged husband lately. He comes across quite charming when he isn't driving me crazy. I won't see him today. He commented how weird that would be that we won't be together for Thanksgiving- but then I remembered last year, I took the kids to my friends for Thanksgiving and he slept all day. So I didn't really see him then either. His memories of the past few years are slightly different than mine.

My favorite memory is of Thanksgiving, many years ago. Probably the year my dad died, or the year before, 1979 or 1980. My dad had us kids for Thanksgiving, and probably had a pretty simple meal planned. And I remember that alot of people brought dishes over for our Thanksgiving. My aunts (mom's sisters), neighbors, even his landlord. I vaguely remember it being a very big dinner in the end.
Those memories get farther and farther away each year.
Some days I can't even remember what he looks like. And all of those memories are just photographs. My father looks exactly like the picture. My memories are photographs. Sometimes when I see pictures I have never seen before, I think "He never looked like THAT!" That's because I don't have that picture.

I wonder what memories my children will have?

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