What's for dessert AND SOME REALLY BIG HOUSES

A short history of the York Peppermint Pattie, from - let's put our hands together for - Wikipedia.

York Peppermint Pattie is a dark chocolate enrobed peppermint confection produced by The Hershey Company.
It was first produced in York, Pennsylvania, by Henry Kessler at his York Cone Company in 1940,^[1] for sale in the Northeastern United States, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and Florida. In 1972, the York Cone Company was acquired by Peter Paul, which launched the York Peppermint Pattie nationally in 1975.
In 1978, Peter Paul merged with Cadbury. York passed to the Hershey Foods Corporation when it acquired the US operations of Cadbury Schweppes in 1988.
During the 1970s and continuing in the present, Peter Paul launched a memorable advertising campaign for the candy with the tagline "Get the Sensation".
The confectionery features strongly contrasting flavors, with a particularly bitter chocolate coating around a sugar center. A sugar-free version of the candy is also available.^[2]
Many chocolate-covered peppermints had been made before the York Peppermint Pattie came on the market, but Kessler's version was firm and crisp, while the competition was soft and gooey. A former employee and York resident Phil Kollin remembered the final (sample) test the pattie went through before it left the factory. "It was a snap test. If the candy didn't break clean in the middle, it was a second."^[3]
In 2009, production of the York Peppermint Pattie moved from Reading, Pennsylvania, to Mexico.^[4]

READ THE LAST SENTENCE ABOVE.  The patties are now made in Mexico. Come back, come back, come back.

WHAT'S FOR DESSERT

I dined in the elegance
of my mind in the eatery
at the Willow Grove
Supermarket, a shrimp salad,
cold slaw, and a new entree
they had whipped up. I tested
it with a plastic fork and
found it, not exactly a
James Beard winner, but
a delight for the palate.

I longed for ice cream
for dessert. A simple
bowl of vanilla ice cream.

Trooping through the store,
I found ice creams interminable
but none in a single pack.

As I walked down the aisle
I spotted it in the help-yo-self bin
aisle, gleaming in two see-through
bins.

I grabbed two, my hands trembling
like a drunk with DTs.

Two York Peppermint Patties.
Le prix, s'ils vous plait?
Two for four cents. Thanks to James Marshall, realtor, I found my dream house.

As they say in The Collection, which I watched for the first time on Masterpiece Theater, careful what you wish for, it might come true.

***

Going for $2,700,000 in Ocean City NJ






 

Poems: The Gettysburg Battle - My Jacko Lantern - Paprika - Animal Crackers

THE GETTYSBURG BATTLE

I never miss a lecture at
our Historical Society.

A smart feller named Herb
showed slides and had a
red-dot pointed at all the
battle fields.

And then surprised us by
talking about the
commercialization of this
place where blood covered
the fields like rain

51,000 casualties,
a 17-mile long wagon train
of wounded bumping along
rough roads, howling with
pain

The battle, the ruination
of Robert E Lee, was fought
for three days, ending on
July 3, 1863

And then the visitors arrived,
many who fought there, with
their war-weary women, wearing
beautiful long dresses and
fancy hats

And then came, right upon this
sacred ground, hotels, gift shops,
railroad tracks to make it easy
for the tourists, and damn near
everything an entrepreneur
could think of.

I was there a few years ago. What
piques me is that in the gift shop
I never bought a Gettysburg Battle
T-shirt.

I can picture it now, but it wasn't
in my top drawer.

***
MY JACKO LANTERN

Eileen and I painted it
a lovely smiling face
with the bluest of eyes
and a lipstick mouth.

I dried it on the screened-in
back porch. Today is the day
I carried it upstairs, tottering
a little, my she was heavy,
and placed her on the front porch.

Now I am ready for Halloween.
My stew pot overflows with
candies to give out. As a kid
I would freeze some - Reese Bars in
the tiny fringed wrappers, Mounds
with coconut inside, and eat
on the floor while reading
The Cleveland Plain Dealer.

Soon it was off to the dentist.
Benjamin Bell. He drilled my
teeth for the cavities I always had,
no novocaine, so I paid a hard price
for my love of sweets.

***

PAPRIKA

The triumvirate of spices
were once salt, pepper,
and paprika.

Hungarians loved their
paprika. Pronounce it
however you please,
it's a flexible spice.

The color is that of a
redhead, perhaps Dorothy
basket in hand, following
the road toward the wizard.

Mom would sprinkle it
on the chicken thighs
along with salt and pepper

And in the gefilte kraut
or stuffed cabbage. Does
Ben and Irv's offer this
delicacy, delicious as a
Dobos Torte.

No matter. I have made my
thighs, two for dinner and
three for the Irishman
with his hearty palate
and his way with words. 

***

ANIMAL CRACKERS

Snacks are an important part
of our writers' group.

I brought Triscuit crackers
in case I didn't like anyone
else's snack.

Bob brought Club Crackers
made by Keebler. I ate two - sweet,
buttery, almost like a cookie.
Stopping at two was hard
but I didn't wanna puff up
and put more weight on.

Ken brought Animal Crackers.
Good, I told him, I don't like
Animal Crackers. Too blah,
too bland.

They don't have much sugar,
he sighed, sitting in his
tall chair near the couch.

I nodded. Our group is
like a party. A dozen of us
sitting around. What what do you
do at parties?

You eat.

As Rem read the next chapter
in his Randy series, I stood
up and opened a red bag of
Animal Crackers, piercing it
with my pen.

I pulled out a big mother,
looked at it and popped it
in my mouth. What a surprise!

It was fresh, certainly, but
hard as an oyster cracker.
I began to chew to the rhythm
of Rem's enchanted words.

Soon I was liking the damn thing,
each and every zoological species
the Noah of the Animal Crackers
had put in the box.

I wiped my lips with my hankie
and said, Damn good, Ken!!!

***

Poems: The Leafman Cometh - You Are Invited (to the Medical School of Oklahoma City)

THE LEAFMAN COMETH

A noise like B-52s
summoned me from my
bed. Damn! They had just
caught the arsonist
in my book. Finally!

Fantasy or reality
which is more important?

Pulling back my drapes
a magnificent machine
greeted my eyes.

The Leaf Vacuum Machine!
What a beaut she was.
Bright yellow body
shining under the early
morning sun. And a hose -
for sucking up leaves -
black as a witch's hat.
As my friend Carl Yeager
would say, What can I do
with this?

Nothing I could think of.
I'm not a painter, nor a
photographer, nor a
jewelry maker.

That's it! A charm bracelet
with dangling leaf vacuums
between my ancient baby teeth.

***

below are instrux about downloading photos.
click at the start button
devices and printers
I CAN'T FIGURE IT OUT!!!

***
A QUIET PASSION about Emily Dickinson is a film I checked outa the library.

It would not play here on my laptop.

Grrrrrrrr! This is the universal symbol for I'm angry as hell!

Perhaps it's on YouTube, I thought.

Instead I watched the entire one-woman play THE BELLE OF AMHERST. 

It was brilliant! Funny, irreverant, sad, but Emily always believed in herself.

Then I watched an interview with her. No wonder I'm so tired today.

  Julie Harris - read about her on Wiki - December 2, 1925 – August 24, 2013

YOU ARE INVITED

Dear Authors and Artists,
the email read, flattering
me immensely, because
the University of Oklahoma
Medical School published
two of my essays, I have been
invited to their gala reception.
Tomorrow.

Of course I shan't go. How could
I miss the glorious autumn leaves
that right now twist on the
trees on our street and then
flutter down gracefully, like
golden saucers.

Across the room I have a huge pot
filled with Halloween candy I bought
last night at Giant. It is beautiful
to me, tho I shan't eat a single
mini Hershey Bar or KitKat, oh that
crunch that makes the creatures that
dwell with me, alarmed - you know,
the spiders, the tiny mites that tiptoe
through the kitchen door.

And the story I will write sometime today
- ideas anyone? - to present to the Thursday
morning writing group, starring Linda, Marlene
and Lori.

There's still time to pack. Of course I'd include
a couple of books and my favorite nightgown my
sister Donna gave me, brown and white stripes
and I'd open up the motel room door and say
Pleased to meetcha!

***

I've got a quarter of an inch worth of reading to finish American Fire.

Ladies and gentlemen, can she do it?

Poem: Scott's New Upstairs Bathroom - A Driveway Moment (about dancing) - Hunger (cruise ship)

Pic from the Internet

PS - What shall I nosh on now? Ideas, please!

SCOTT'S NEW UPSTAIRS BATHROOM

Together we picked out
the sink and attending cabinature
the toilet - lots to choose from -
he got a Kohler - mirror opening
to medicine chest

and elegant floor tiles.

As soon as Walmsey and Sons
had lain them in place
I coveted them, despite
Biblical precepts.

Ever heard of a seraglio?
Turkish for harem.
These very same tiles
or ones like them
were used in these
prisons for all who
lived there.

Certainly they had everything!
Hot baths, the best meats and
chicken and oysters, grapes
to dangle before your mouth
and clothing much finer than those
in films by Cecile B Demill.

Surely you know people will escape.
Shall we join them and run through the woodlands?
What will happen to us? Ah, a few moments of
freedom, the fresh pine air, the wide blue sky
the soft pine needles underfoot.

Life is short, like the waning moon.
Celebrate now before it's too late.

***
They're called Devo and who am I to say that they look like alien beings?  


A DRIVEWAY MOMENT

Pulling into the drive
I couldn't believe the
great song on the radio

I have radios in four rooms
of my house. Click! I turned
on the living room radio. Damn!
Water Music by Handel came on.

I raced into the kitchen sliding
on the kitchen floor. Click!
There it was. Was I up for
dancing? For kicking my legs
like the Rockettes?

Into the living room I went.
A newly bought pumpkin
grimaced at me. Years ago
I led a dance ensemble of
one at Horsham Clinic.

One man, named Fred, said
"Dig her shoes." Beige with
a zipper.
Now I wear these Chinese
slippers I bought online.

I played the song on YouTube.
Rhythm as fast as the drums
of Gene Krupa or Dave King
I spun around like a Bolshoi
nymphette.

Baby, baby, baby, I can't get
no satisfaction, because I'm
on a losing streak.

Cocaine's addictive but this
is even worse. How many times
ya gonna press "replay," Ruthie?

Dinner is calling.


***

Was reading some work on Page and Spine. The work is pretty good. One man had a great quote:

Paul Valéry has written about poetry that “the Gods give you the first verse.”

***

Just submitted THE LONG HAPPY LIFE OF CARROLL BEAME to Pure Slush. What a long wait we have until we find out if it's published.

End of November.

***

HUNGER

Funny, but I'm
rarely hungry at
breakfast, yet that's
when you're supposed to eat
and I do.

The ferocious hunger comes
at bedtime, when, lying in
bed, I close my eyes and
imagine I'm on a world-
famous cruise ship

And sitting next to
his lord and ladyship
am served Cream of Asparagus
Soup with Oyster Crackers,
a mild sherry to wash it
down with, then Peking Duck
so crunchy and delicious you
forget it was once alive,
with garlic whipped mashed
potatoes and carrots julienne

Will you have dessert, Madame?
a smart bow-tied waiter asks.
Of course, I say. The pecan pie,
the lemon meringue, the peach cobbler,
tiny pieces of each, I say in my
best parlez-vous francais.

By now I am rocked to sleep by
the movement of the boat. When
I awaken, it's just another day.   

What if your loved one died in the military? - LSD issue of Life Mag - Towels

Beautiful photo of a tragedy. Her husband  Sgt La David Terrence Johnson was an American service member killed in action in West Africa.

From the Washington Post - But to his family and his community in Miami Gardens, Fla., Johnson was also known as “Wheelie King,” a nickname he earned for riding his bicycle on one wheel. He rode a lot, usually on his way to work, when he was still a civilian.


“You go slow, though. Make sure you keep your balance,” Johnson told ABC affiliate WPLG in 2013, the year before he enlisted in the Army. “Once you feel that you are comfortable, you could just ride all day.”


Johnson and three other American soldiers were killed in an ambush in Niger on Oct. 4.


He left behind a wife who is six months pregnant and two children, a 2-year-old boy and a 6-year-old girl. Now, two weeks after the 25-year-old Special Forces soldier’s death, his name is entangled in a controversy involving President Trump, who has been accused of making insensitive remarks to Johnson’s young widow.


(He didn't know the soldier's name and kept calling him "Your guy" and also insisted, Well, this is what he signed up for.)

From the Times on Thursday - The White House chief of staff, John F. Kelly, defended President Trump’s call to the widow of a slain soldier and described the trauma of learning about his own son’s death in Afghanistan during a news briefing on Thursday.

Have I told you my short story WHEN DAD COMES HOME FROM THE WAR was published? 

Read it here.

***

LIFE MAGAZINE
MARCH 25, 1966
35 cents

In my frenzy of downsizing
I came across their
LSD issue.

The mag once belonged to
a Mrs C of Philadelphia
which I bought at a yard sale.

Mrs C must have been
horrified to read about
lysergic acid diethylamide

Little did she know that her
husband, Mr C and his mistress
a young woman we'll call Lolita

had been using the drug on
weekends when he was supposed
to be working overtime - wink wink -

If you'd gone to the Holiday Inn
on Market Street you would have
heard from Room 101

Quacks like a duck, hee-haws
like a donkey - their riotous laughter
and jumping about the room
like the Ballet Russe on drugs.

And now, the so-called experts
are drumming up new ways to use
the substance. Read the Internet.

Me, I'll stick with my morning tea.
I told my sister Donna I don't like
the Tetley Organic Green Tea
- it tastes like leftover rain water -
and she suggested I put in several bags
which I did, and who knows?

Maybe someone will slug me and I
can put them over my sore eye? 

***

I had to remove the post on Organized Approach, the column on throwing things away, but I am still in hot pursuit of downsizing!

Most of my books are gone, given to Upper Moreland Library to be resold.

La Pedrera I've kept - the glorious apartment complex in Barcelona - which I took to Mom's. We read it after our quiche lunch Ellen made us before she left for PAFA.

The other day I went to my linen closet to find a fresh towel. When I opened it, I noticed what was inside FOR THE FIRST TIME!

The towels came spilling out! How many towels does one person need?!

This morning, in fact, I went to the drop box across from the Giant - Planet Aid - and plopped a white trash bag full of towels inside.

Of course I felt sad! Until I drove over.

The other day I stopped off at the Upper Moreland Police office and placed my old painkillers - some 10 to 15 yrs old - into their drop box.

Why was I keeping them?

This is a good place for a poem and I think we'll call it TOWELS.


TOWELS

A leaning tower of old towels
tilted this morning on my purple chair
and ottoman. I had been collecting
them since the day I moved in
some 27 years ago.

They had a pleasant smell about them
from whatever cheapest laundry
detergent I'd used on them
all these years.

Some were gifts. Some I took
when I was leaving home from
Mom's. Do you believe I have never
bought myself a single towel, yet
have given them as gifts.

The place where I took them
will send them on. May I allow
myself to believe that some
are going to San Juan?

Can you see little Jose
and Natalia  using them
to dry off after their bath?

This faraway woman wishes
you and your family todo lo mejor
all the best and a return to
the way it was.

Ready for some poetry? Midnight Walk - Tarragon Abuse - Aunt Sylvie and Uncle Maury

A couple of Facebook poems


MIDNIGHT WALK

My house has neither a track
nor swimming pool, the
stationery bike is
sedentary

So what's a girl to do
when she wants to relax
after doing some
heavy thinking

Out into the neighborhood
I go. No one's about.
Feels good to stretch
my scrunched up
writers' legs
as I briskly pass
the darkened houses

Should I round the bend
and take the difficult hill?
I don't know but my legs
won't stop.

What if a coyote approaches?
Ken Ivins said he saw one.
Or a kidnapper, a Richard Widmark
type, as seen in Kiss of Death?

Every house is dark. Closed up.
No use in screaming.
Consider me dead.

***

TARRAGON ABUSE
also known as
Product Code 0 523531

I use tarragon
in my soups and
on my morning eggs

I even got Rem Murphy
to use it, and he's
a tough guy in his
Philly's cap and
fine postal clerk manners

Is it my imagination or
is the beautiful word
"tarragon" - say it slowly
and dramatically with the
lovely "Tuh" in the lead

becoming popular all around
the country? Tarragon Community College
Tarragon Consolidation of Loans
Tarragon School of Dog Training
Tarragon Bar and Grille

And now, if you'll excuse me
gonna drive over to the
Bar and Grille and see if
I can catch some action there.

But if they've got a big screen
and are watching the news, I'm gone.

Will go home and make some mushroom
soup flavored with the licorice-tasting
oh-so-tangy Tarragon and savor it
a small sip at a time.

What? You don't like it? What dyou
know anyway?

***

Am reading a remarkable book called AUTUMN

Just read the review of this book and previous books he had done which caused a sensation in Norway.




Karl Ove Knausgaard

Before I read the back story on him, I was enjoying the short chapters with titles like Teeth, Frogs, Petrol and Porpoises. The next one is called Piss.

He makes you think about things like never before.

Born 1968 in Oslo, so he's 48.

Lemme write a quick poem now. But what shall it be about?

AUNT SYLVIE AND UNCLE MAURY

Who might these people be?
Mom has given me a B&W
photo which lies on the couch.
Once they were my kin.
They lived in Daytona Beach
and swam with the waves
loved in their bed
and cuddled before
Ozzie and Harriet.

He died first, as men often do,
she lived on, devastated for a
while, I imagine hearing her
weep while looking at her
garden out the window, but
then another man came along.

Many wealthy people live in
Florida and this widower,
Nat, was one of them. They
fell in love and for the
first time in her life
Aunt Sylvie had funds.

What did she do with them?
She divvied them up among
her family and bought us
stocks and bonds.

Nat passed away and Aunt Sylvie
moved into a nursing home. My
mom flew down to visit. Very
few people remember Sylvie
or Maury or Nat.

What happens to their bones?

So many things to talk about! Really? Yes. Detective Colombo had a wife

Let's see, today is Sunday. The Beehive met here yesterday b/c Queen B had company buzzing around her hive.

I wrote a short story called The Gift. It took place in the Shenandoah Valley. It contained so much erroneous information I'm rewriting it now and moving it to Vermont.

Hold on while I freshen my cup of tea.

Oh, thank you Eddie, I appreciate that.


Eddie Muller is host of Noir Alley.

YOGURT
A NEW APPRECIATION
OF WHOLE MILK
PLAIN YOGURT

In Bible Days
our herdsmen milked
their animals and
carried the creamy
whitish product
in their saddlebag,
made from the animal's
stomach, and found as if
by magic, the liquid
had changed.

Pudding like and delicious
though the days were long
and hot, the yogurt remained
sweet, not sour like today's
lemon drops.

Yoplait? Chobani? Fage? Siggi's?

Dannon was the first to be produced.
Barcelona, ole! Year of 1919.
First called Danone, named for his
little son, Daniel, it finally
became Dannon.

The first factory was in the
The Bronx. Could it still be
there or did it slowly decay,
the bricks spattered with
pigeon crap,its windows smashed,
the home, perhaps, of a massive
new Stephen King novel.

Do comparison tests as my friend
Helene used to do. Why you do like
this? The thickness? The loosesness.

I am still making up my mind.

Dyou think bare-chested Putin
eats yogurt? My guess is he
does, to get in shape for
his voracious march to
take over the world.

***

   John P Creveling and wife Christina Robertson

Diagnosed with Parkinson's disease, his life has taken on a new meaning.

Read story about him here.    Here's anudder one.

He asked me to review his book that's being published.

John P. Creveling is one of the wisest men I know. When he ran his Career Resources Management he helped many folks find jobs. Then, in 2009, the unthinkable happened. He was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. With the saucy redhead by his side - his wife Christina Robertson - he began a new life. He became a visual artist with gorgeous explosions of colors. With his new book "More than What You see" his artistic legacy expands. He's a poet, who writes his odyssey of the new life he's fashioned for himself. Run, don't walk, to buy this remarkable, inspirational tour de force.

***

I keep copies, if possible, of all the newspaper stories I've written, or my own writing. I was talking to my friend Rem who loves Columbo and has the entire series, including a few with Columbo's. I dunno what that's about as she was always a mystery and used as a foil - Oh, my wife would love that.

Anyway here's my article about Columbo when I worked at Patch.

Reruns are on COZI-TV, peppered with long commercials.

Rem has the entire series of Colombo and writes about his wife:

Mrs. Colombo works for a local newspaper, so her press badge allows her access to crimes, which she solves. You never see Mr. Colombo, but you see the young daughter, the cigars in the ashtray, and the basset hound, which is the one thing you will also see in Colombo. I watched the last Colombo episode from season five (1975-76), which was good but strange with a lot of abrupt cuts and you didn't know who did it until the end, which is atypical for the show.

It was directed by Peter Falk's buddy Patrick McGoohan, who also wrote for the show, starred as the murderer in two episodes, and won two Emmy's for his work in Colombo. I'm a big McGoohan fan by the way. Born in NYC, raised in the U.K., he can play an American or a Brit, and of course had his own shows, Secret Agent and the Prisoner.

Like Falk, he likes cigars and hates guns, you will never see him use a gun in Secret Agent or the Prisoner, and out of respect for his wife you will not see him womanizing or even kissing, was offered the Bond role in Live and Let Die, I mean they offered it to him, but he refused because he thought Bond was too immoral, who does that?--Rem 

***

I was fixing my blog archive and saw, as I do many times, that one of the links was broken. When I attempted to fix it I saw that the Father of Transplantation, Thomas E Starzl, had died.

I wrote Dr Stalin Campos of this, who said he was just showing a pic of my transplant to someone, and then I sent him my poem.

PIONEERING LIVER SURGEON DIES
WRITES THE NEW YORK TIMES
1926 - 2017

Born in March, died in March
Thomas E Starzl, surrounded
by his family, his wife and
soulmate, Joy, and others who
flew to be by his side

His work here on earth finished.

But never really finished.

The man had an obsession
the livers of dogs
a liver? Yes, a gorgeous
pinkish organ, when healthy.

Huge, with many parts like
states of the USA, each
part responsible for
digesting and processing food.

Say, they're picnicking today in
Tennessee, the little bits of
celery in the potato salad
are macerated by the right or
the left lobe.

God thought of every little thing
when designing this master organ.

And so I celebrate you, give thanks
for you, Thomas E Starzl, for making
it possible for me to be alive on this
rainy morning in Willow Grove.

My transplanted kidney pulses with
joy since my daughter, Sarah Lynn Deming,
donated her kidney to me and
surgeons Radi Zaki and Stalin Campos
fitted it in, just so.

It's great to be alive, n'est-ce pas?


***

Getting Bettah All the Time

Look at what the human body can do, when challenged.

FROM WHYY --Morgan Hurd walked through her gym Wednesday wearing two large shining medals that swung heavily against her small frame.

Her braces glistening, the 16-year-old gymnast smiled ear to ear as young girls cheered, waved American flags and greeted her with hugs.

Morgan has just returned from Montreal, where she became the first Delawarean to win a world championship title in gymnastics. The Middletown resident is only the 8th American woman to win gold in the all-around event at worlds — where she also won a silver medal for balance beam.
“I felt incredible, I was so happy, I started crying, actually,” she said.

What you can't see in the picture is that Morgan is wearing eyeglasses.

Not only has Morgan received attention for her quick rise to the top, but also for her bubbly personality, and for wearing glasses during competition.

She wears a strap that hooks to the back of her glasses and wraps around her head so it stays in place. Morgan tried contact lenses, but sometimes chalk would get in them, and she’d waste her practice time trying to clean them out.

“I’ve gotten [attention for my glasses] ever since I started competing, because there’s really only been one other known gymnast, Kami Moore, that competed in glasses,” she said. “It’s just such an uncommon thing, because people think they can’t do it, because they’re afraid they’re going to break or something.”

Read more here and watch video. 

***

More on Scott's renovation. The Walmsey Guys put in the bathtub today. Scott couldn't leave home since they needed to ask him questions.

I viewed it but you can't really see it.

Scott, let's take a walk in the Pennypack. We drove over, said hello to Lauren, David had already left. These are the last precious seconds for Lauren who is on vacation.

Twas certainly good to see the place again. My left leg was hurting tho so we couldn't go as far as we would have liked.

Prior to that I went to Mom's house where my nephew Alex Pomper was visiting.  Can we get a shot of this photographer off the Net?

  Tyler picked him up at the airport, with his wife Kamelia and son David. All in a tiny little car like the many clowns who come piling out.

Siri... please send in the clowns



Before we walked at the Pennypack, we stopped at the police station.

Hi, I said, where do I drop off my drugs.

In the green box, ma'am.

And so I did. Many were over 10 yrs old

Percodans, Percosetts, Oxycontin....several bottles of each.

How do I feel now that I did it?

Pause.

The same.

Gonna go watch Sherlock Holmes videos at Scott's. They came from the East Cheltenham Library.

He said we like those British names, Basil and Nigel.

Visit with Dr Foxhall - U T I - Driving to the Birthday Boys Before it Got Dark

I was pretty sure I had a U T I, so I drove over to his office at the Schilling Campus of AMH. Quite a few people in the Waiting Room, including kids, with their moms trying to shush them.

This one family had two little boys, maybe 3 and 4, and they each had their own bottle of water. The kids were reading from the kids' shelf of books.

Finally they were called back while I waited in misery. My problem was that if I had peed at home, I wouldn't have enuf to pee now. But if I hadn't peed at home, I might have too much and would pee all over the floor.

This is what happened to me for the first time with my new U T I.

As soon as I was taken in back, I was made to pee. The teeniest amount came out but fortunately they had enuf.

My urine was loaded with bacteria. From both bladder and urinary tract. This is not good if you've had a kidney transplant.

I entered Dr Foxhall's examining room. He's tall and very handsome. He got a giant pair of glasses.

  Brazen me, took this a couple of years ago.

The moment I awake this morning, I ran downstairs to take my Cipro pill. One in the a m, one 12 hours later.

He told me to keep my blood sugar down. When you're sick it goes high. But I'm feeling much better. AND I've gotta run The Daytime Meeting. I better get the name tags out. Hold on.

As I listened to Gregg Whiteside on WRTI I wondered, How can he do this day by day?

I'd love to do something different. Here come the Trash Men in their mighty green trucks. Should they give residents a chance to do the job? I'm so weak now I can barely lift two books at once to take up to bed.

Alex Glijanski had written me a thank-you about my World Mental Health Day. I credited him for getting me back on my feet again. He's slowly retiring.

"Mindhunter" will be on Netflix soon. And the Basil Rathbone version of Sherlock is waiting for Scott and me at the library.

And I do have several ideas for short stories.

When I was at Dan's last night - he did not like my books - Grace would say, Tell me about your day. They seem to favor their mother, who surprised them all by going with her friend to a free concert.

For dinner, Nicole bought burritos. Briskit burritos. I've got one in the fridge, wondering how I'll dispose of it.

On WRTI Daniel Behrenbaum is playing what sounds like a Bach Fugue.

So yesterday, Zeke knocked, walked in, and removed a bunch of magnets from my fridge. I said nuffin and he replaced em when he left.

What? You're having egg salad for dinner?

I usually bring my dinner to the Demings.

Zeke is fascinated by everything I do.

And how was your day?

At Dan's Nicole had picked up some burritos.

Altho I finished me egg salad, Dan gave me the remainder of his briscuit of beef burrito!

Then Nicole surprised us by saying she and her friend were going to a free concert!

Max was on the couch falling asleep.

Grace was playing a game with tiny action figures.

I gave Dan two of the hard backs I'd bought for his 41st b'day.

Alan Dershowitz - I'll pass, said he.

World's Best Detective Stories from England and America - I'll pass, said he.

Of course I was hurt.

Guess why I'm leaving now, I announced.

Cuz you don't wanna drive in the dark, said Max.