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November 16-

Thoughts of Christmas cards materialize and feel pressure of approaching holidays. Lack of participation in almost all festivities in recent years has had definite effect on number of cards received, until we are now beneficiaries of perhaps five from acquaintances, most of them our dentist and doctor, whom we like very much. Nevertheless, feel compelled to think about Cards every holiday season until such a time as it is too late to do anything about them.

Tremendous rainstorm floods alleyway behind house and invades unit on property. Insurance agent informs Don that had the Flood been from Rain falling down from sky, damage would be covered. However, he says, That is Not the Case here, as Flood came from alley.

Our view is that the original source of rain was the sky, which proceeded to fill alley, and visit itself upon the foundation of house. Our views and agent’s opinion on whether flood was Act Of God, or whether rain acted on it’s Own Recognizance, differ widely. After discussion, I advise Don to address all future payments to Wonderland, and procure services of Mad Hatter as agent.

Dear Don’s retirement looms, and I research Houseboat rentals on the Mississippi for future vacation. We agree this would be relaxing and exciting experience, and that we have responsibility to see more of Our Own Country. All is rosy until search for floating house on Google includes suggestions such as ‘Mississippi houseboat accident’, followed by ‘Mississippi houseboat tragedy’. Fear that if I continue, search will yield ‘Mississippi houseboat and End of World’ and leave it for the time being.

(Reading is to blame for American yearning to Wander. Books such as Huckleberry Finn and Travels With Charlie partially responsible for Road Trips and rafting down unfamiliar rivers.)

Sugar Baby causes personal uproar when I discover foam pad wantonly destroyed in backyard. Ask her with quiet, Deadly Smile if she’d like to go for a Drive in the Desert.  Sit down and have serious discussion explaining How Disappointed I am in her.

Idle conversation with Don veers, cannot say how, to the relative attributes of salt, sugar, and butter. Recognize that while people are entitled to their decisions about dietary choices, I affirm that I will never give up the Big Three entirely, and in fact, use two of them liberally, every day. (Consensus of thought quite satisfying, as we agree that giving them up may, or may not, contribute to longer life, but Earthly Existence will definitely Feel longer.)

Catch up on Pressing Business, entering Grocery Store sweepstakes. Code appears on front of invitation whereby I can enter and win a tailgating party, or, $10,000. Code is Butkus. Am not sure whether this indicates immature response of grocery store for patronizing other merchants, or is merely coincidence. (Have recourse to the Great Wizard Google, and learn that Butkus is name of professional football player. Mentally apologize to young man with this moniker for thinking his name a joke).

(Mem: Must make effort to be more culturally aware. Lack of knowledge of professional sports can lead to embarrassment when complaining to grocery store about having a Bad Attitude. On reflection decide that I don’t care, as we will be Long Gone on our houseboat after winning Big Money from sweepstakes.)

Dear friends who have gone on trip to Europe arrive home and inform me they have read all entries in Diary. Am much impressed and gratified, and make early New Year’s resolution to send them Christmas card by December 24.




This post first appeared on Diary Of A Provincial Sophisticate | 'I Know Its A, please read the originial post: here

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November 16-


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