My Dad was a Cop

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While corresponding with a remote friend, this subject came up: 

 

>>   (sorry, my dad was a cop, and these things kind of rub off) 
> Updated, and that is super interesting. I bet that must have been quite interesting, and also nervy at times with your dad being a cop. I bet you heard loads of fascinating stories.

I tried to think of interesting and harrowing stories, but couldn't.  I was a kid, and not thinking about it, plus he faced far fewer dangers in our relatively small town.  It mostly affected my life by teaching me how to be quiet, as he worked graveyard for quite a while.  Also, he drank too much while he had that job.  I suspect that there were a few issues he tried (and failed) to keep from the rest of the family.

 

I do have one story, though.  It was about his first "arrest."  He was sent to respond to reports of a piglet which had escaped its farm enclosure and was seen wandering around the town square.  He had a picture framed, which he called "Pig arrests pig"  (the local paper didn't use that headline).  He had a watch with a revisionist message:  "Pride, Integrity, Guts" -- sort of an attempt to "own" the term.  Later, he quit the force because he was passed over for a promotion that he felt he deserved.  

 

John Lee Payton, Sr.

His Missouri accent was stronger than mine, and sounded a bit more southern.  I think he tried to look like Dean Martin and sound like Andy Griffith.

He was a strict father and discouraged "feelings," which served to estrange his artistic son and discourage questions about his day.  I inherited his temper, which threatened to do the same with my family.  I hope it did not.

2024 Hogswatch Letter

 Happy Hogswatch to all family and friends!

First and foremost, I'm glad you're all still with us.  We lost two good friends this year - Brian Callaghan in the spring, and Jerry Abels in the fall.  Both left behind loving families who rightfully feel that they were taken too soon.  Celebrate your loved ones.

It's been a busy year, and there's a lot to catch up on.

Kyrie sold the Seward St. house, and we are officially done with it.  Now I just have a shipping/storage unit parked in my driveway, waiting to be emptied.  Why isn't that done yet?  Well...

This year, Cindi and I celebrated our first anniversary - both of them!  In September we finally took our honeymoon.  We booked a week-long cruise to Alaska.  Arthur, Anita, and the grandkids (A2+2) joined us, as well as
Cindi's best friend Romany.  Unfortunately Kyrie and Rick could not go.  I won an axe-throwing contest.  We didn't get to see the Northern Lights, so that's still on the bucket list.

In June we ordered some additional cabinets to be installed in the kitchen. When they called to say that the cabinets were ready for delivery, the date was -- are you ahead of me? -- September, during the cruise.  That had to be delayed, and they were finally delivered early in November.  The boxes sat in our living room until late November, and the installers found that 1) one of the units was broken (this was missed by the project manager), and 2) the house studs are 24 inches apart, requiring a brace -- and an additional charge. And they never ordered drawer pulls, so I had to take care of that.  As of this letter, the upper cabinets are still not done. At least we did not get any more pets in the walls (see below).

I narrated two audiobooks this year, and am working on another.  If interested, hit me up for a free coupon code.  Speaking of books, we've settled upon two regular book clubs - one for Mystery and one for Science Fiction/Fantasy.  

And of course we continue to game.  Arthur runs a weekly online game for family, and the two of us attend one weekly D&D game, one monthly, and we meet for tabletop games with the SF/F club once a month.

Now for pet news.  In May, we changed out the bathtub for a walk-in shower.  Unfortunately, the contractors left one section of drywall open overnight, and I forgot to shut the bathroom door.  As a result, three of the cats found the hole too tempting to not explore.  This wall opened into the garage ceiling, which also had a section open for this project.  Two cats, Fog and Eveson, apparently wandered all the way into the garage, and ran out when I returned from work and opened the door.  They have not returned.  The third cat, Peaches, remained in the ceiling for four days before I gave up on waiting and tore out an entire section of ceiling to retrieve her.  Earlier that same month, I lost another cat to kidney failure, so the loss of two more was rather difficult.  

The lone dog, Monroe, had several teeth extracted by the vet, leaving her nearly toothless.  She is still quite active despite her age.  Just a couple of weeks ago, we brought home another chihuaha - much younger and much quieter.  We call him Dean and have decided that it's worth the trouble to house-train him.  He leaves the cats alone, and they return the favor for the most part.  He doesn't even bark at the neighbor's dogs through the fence.

I forgot to prepare May baskets this year (given the above, I think I'll forgive myself), but we did distribute some candy-filled holiday mugs this month.  We set up for Halloween, but no younglings ventured out this way to take our bountiful candy and books.  Next year I'm putting us on the NextDoor Halloween map.

Now, off to mail these cards and prepare for the annual Hogswatch celebration.  Whatever holiday you celebrate, have a great one!

John & Cindi

2023 Hogswatch letter

 Season’s greetings, y’all!

2023:  Honestly never saw this year coming.

Cindi and John had planned to date a while, take some time off work to occasionally visit each other, and ultimately she would move to Omaha just before we married in October. Well, that didn’t happen. She was not allowed to take time off work – even unpaid – for even one extended weekend a month, so she gave notice and moved here in January. We found a house we like, and made our union official several months early, so that she had no gap in health insurance. We are mailing from the new address, so we hope you didn’t throw away the envelope. 

We still had our wedding on Halloween, with John’s son Arthur officiating, in our own backyard. A small gathering, but still quite a bit to get ready for. Halloween seems to be a “thing” for our family. Robin & John, Arthur & Anita, and Cindy & Randy were all married on Halloween.

And (a new) life goes on. We’ve joined a couple of book clubs – one for science fiction/fantasy, and one for mysteries. We’ve found a couple of local D&D games. And, of course, we’re “playing house” (as John calls it), learning how to be partners. It’s amazing to be friends for so long – since college. We were friends because we were so alike. To advance the relationship has been healing for us, following the loss of our spouses.

John participated in three separate shows at the Lofte theater – Doublewide, Texas, the Lofte Variety
Show, and A Doublewide, Texas Christmas. This is the first, and possibly only, Christmas show John will ever do.

John was also contracted to narrate an audiobook: Kingshire Falls, by Steve McElhenny. Soon after finishing that, he received another narration offer, with promises of sequels from both writers. Retirement (in 3 years!) may not involve door-greeting at Wal-Mart after all.

On that subject, Cindi is not officially retired, but has been taking the time to allow her knee and heel to heal. The gel and steroid shots seem promising, and we’ve found a fabulous orthopedic insole that completely alleviates the pain from her heel spur. Hey, we’re senior citizens now, so we’re allowed to talk about medical stuff. 

We attended Cindi’s hometown all class grade school reunion in Navarre KS, thrown because the building has been converted to a community center. Alumni from several decades attended. Cindi knew almost everyone; John knew no one, but everyone seemed nice and the food was good.

Cindi has enjoyed moving back to the midwest – after 40 years – and she is, shall we say, over-exuberant about snow (John hopes that wears off sooner than later). It’s strange living with someone that spent so much time in Phoenix. She wanted to turn the thermostat to 80 in the summer. She had to take light sweaters with her because AC was too low for her in most public places.

We placed a Little Free Library in front of our house, in honor of Robin. So far more people have left
books than taken them. 

We feel blessed this year, and wish all the blessings of the season to you, throughout the year to come. 

John & Cindi

2021 Hogswatch Letter

 Greetings, friends and family.

This year was much like the last - not a lot got done, not a lot changed.

I auditioned for a few plays, but did not land any parts.  I did more recording for librivox.org, and have enjoyed it enough that I'm considering making voicework a side-hustle after retirement.  To that end, I'm clearing out the "hobbit room" upstairs and turning it into a studio.

If anyone is interested in looking up my work on librivox, the finished works that I've contributed to so far are "Black'erchief Dick," "T. Tembarom," and "Mary Ware's Promised Land."  I'll also keep a copy of any of my work on my media server, for those who have or want access to that.

I continue to livestream an hour of "bedtime reading" every week on Facebook.  I pick one of our family favorites and read from that.  At an hour a week, it will be a long while before I run out of things to read.  I save those files, too.

Arthur wrapped up the third "season" of his online game.  Kyrie has started up one of her own, giving him an extra-long break to set up the next twist in his campaign.  And I recently learned that my granddaughter wants to run a murder mystery game during the holiday visit.  I'll be playing the butler, so I think I'm in trouble.

This year, plants decided to grow in my yard.  Along the front walk, three mullien stalks sprang up, making it look as if I had planned it that way (I didn't).  And in the back, a pumpkin vine crawled out of one of the ash stumps, producing four pumpkins before frost took it.  One of these rotted away because I didn't know you were supposed to harvest them as soon as they turned orange, and two of them never did turn orange.  But one - the smallest - became the main flavor in a pumpkin cheesecake.  If it springs up again next year, I'll be ready.

Kyrie had quite a fright this year.  While taking a break from decorating her yard for Halloween, she heard a terrible crash outside: a drunk driver hitting first a power pole, then the fence in front of her house!  No one was hurt, not even the driver, but only minutes before several people were out in her yard, hanging decorations.  Insurance only recently paid on the damages; as of this letter the fence is still scrap in the yard.

We have started a monthly newsletter.  If this is something that interests you (and you're not already getting it), drop me a note.

Every week, I pick a box from storage and clear it out.  That means that, theoretically, I should have cleared out about fifty boxes from the basement last year.  It does not look as if I have done that.  I have a long way to go.

Plans for next year include joining Arthur as he picks up his RenFaire circuit again, provided the Omicron variant doesn't send us all back into lockdown.

Stay safe out there, folks.

John

2020 Hogswatch Letter

December, 2020

Greetings, friends and family.

For all that we have collectively faced this year, my own life has been comparatively uneventful.  My house is quiet, apart from the antics of too many cats, and I have done little to change it, or myself.  

Early in 2020, the BookMobile stopped running.  I took a long hard look at the value of the van, versus the cost of repairs, and sadly let it go, replacing it with a much smaller vehicle.  Kept the license plate, though. 

Last month, I had to remove another tree from the back yard, as it was beginning to drop branches so large that I could not move them by myself.  I felt that it was only a matter of time before one of those branches hit the house, the car, or a power line.

I'm still with the railroad, although I'm changing shifts again -- from second back to third.  This is partly to accommodate my need for a social life, and partly to escape from a horribly inept manager, about whom the less said, the better.  

My health remains good, which is about the best news anyone can report these days.  Being stuck at home has done nothing at all for my emotional recovery.  Often I feel as if I am simply going through the motions.  

For a while I was making regular visits with a good friend (Hi, Jerry).  The pandemic put that on indefinite haitus, seeing that both of us fall into "at risk" categories, and I'd much rather bank on more future visits.  I look forward to becoming more social, with an expanded group of people, once such things are possible again.  For now, I only see my daughter once a week, and my son's family on very rare occasions.  The kids and grandkids are my lifeline; they keep me sane.

Speaking of which, Arthur restarted his online game.  The family games have always been a core part of our togetherness, and it has been a great comfort to gather together in the spirit of adventure again, even if it does have to be in a virtual setting because of the distance involved.  

My original plans for the year were to re-integrate myself with the theatre community.  Those plans have been postponed to next year.  For now, I've been livestreaming a weekly book reading, from a list of family favorites, over FaceBook.  I've also started volunteering at LibriVox.org, honing my narrative and editing skills.  

I am working on a writing contract, and the other party has been very patient with me.  I hope to finish that obligation in the coming year.

My complete contact information was printed on the obverse.  It is available to those who answer me my questions three without falling into the pit of despair or the bog of stench.  

There it is, my Year of Maintenance.  I wish you all a warm and happy holiday season, and a year full of joy to follow.

 John L. Payton

(PS - I'll also post last year's letter, to keep them easily available)

The Tail of Chik-Tika

(This story is a bit foggier, and I may have to have help fleshing it out.  Anyone who was there, please feel free to correct my memory.)

Robin invented Chik-Tika.  Hamelyn made him legend.

I'm fairly certain that the name came from the ABBA song "Chiquitita".  Robin tended to have music playing during games, or while planning games.  

Our party (and I can't remember which characters) first met Chik-Tika during an ocean adventure.  We were on a ship, and the cargo was (I shit you not) blow-up sex dolls.  Only the captain of the ship was embarrassed to admit that aloud, and used a euphemism: "floatation devices."  

Somehow, this anthropomorphic, talking raccoon found its way on board, in the middle of the voyage, and began, well, acting like a curious raccoon.  Asking questions.  Poking its nose everywhere.  Stealing.  

The Tail of Panda

I have to begin by saying that Robin turned out to be something of a power player.

When Arthur began his Roll20 campaign Ilvantar, it was mainly for our family, and he was working out the kinks in the system.  We were his playtesters.  I ran Cage (ranger-type), Anita had Rosa (heavy magic and stealth), Kyrie was Somura (stealth/diplomacy), and Robin recreated Maxwell (magic and healing -- mostly healing), one of her first D&D characters and a longtime NPC in her own game.  The kids played when they could muster the attention for it.

Maxwell...overdid things.  I won't sidetrack this story by telling about all the things he overdid, but there were a lot.  If he had the choice of setting a duration of a spell for hours or days, he chose weeks.  Or months.  Or millenia.  

I'll give you an early example.  One of our early campaigns was to rescue a village of humans from a tribe of gnoll captors.  We established a base of operations in a nearby grove of fruit trees, and Maxwell thought it would be a good idea to set up a "healing point" at our camp.  He centered it upon one of the trees, anyone in a certain radius regenerates a huge amount (it's been so long I've forgotten how much, I think 70 hp per round), and he set it to last for millenia.  He burned up all his Power doing that, and dipped into health reserves if I recall correctly -- this was before I started making detailed notes, but somebody has them and can correct me.  That tree became a key part of future events, and for all I know, it is still there, spread throughout the entire world of Ilvantar by now.  That's when we began calling Maxwell "Miracle Max."  It's also when Arthur began modifying his magic system.

Enter the Bitter Trees.

One Year

I thought that I would write about how much I have healed this past year, but in truth, I still feel very much lost and empty, especially late at night.

I thought that I would write about the events of that late night, a year ago, but every time I start thinking about them, I keep wanting to go further back, explaining how things started, and then I realize anew that I don't really know how things really started, and what I really want to do is go back and stop it all from happening.

I thought that I would write about a lot of things, but instead, I spent the past few days in the company of family, and that was the best use of my time. 

Arthur and I finally moved the large china cabinet from the hall, where it has stood since we transported it from the rock cabin just before that place was sold.  And then I spent the next hour or so feeling guilty for finally accomplishing it, just as I still do for every little thing that I finally get done, having put it off for so long. 

The holiday isn't completely ruined for me.  I can look back on the good times and smile, even if that smile is accompanied by a few tears.  And I can watch my grandchildren enjoy a few sparklers with innocent abandon. 

The sense of emptiness is far greater after the visit, than it used to be.

Another Death In The Family

Tonight I received word that my Aunt Kay has passed away.

I don't know any of the details.  She hasn't been well for quite some time.  The last time she posted anything on Facebook, she thought that she was talking to my father.  Still, she was a decent and loving person, and will be missed.

Kay (Katherine May Payton) moved into an apartment before I reached my teen years.  She used to let my sister and me spend alternating weekends with her.  I think, looking back, that maybe these visits were her mother's idea, so that she wouldn't be out partying with her friends all the time.  If that was the plan, it backfired badly.  Kay turned Granny's little spies into her co-conspirators by bringing whichever kid she happened to be stuck with along for the ride.  Well, that's how it worked for me, anyway.  I can't speak for my sister's experience. 

I consumed my first mixed drinks at Kay's apartment.  I also had my first experience with weekly cleaning chores.  She never treated me like a child, even though I was one, and never excluded me.  What little social skills I gained during those years, was probably thanks to her.

Kay loved life, and I'm glad she made a family for herself.  I regret ever losing touch with her.

2019 Hogswatch Letter

December, 2019

Dear friends and family,

2019 has been a rough year for the Payton clan.  After struggling with a recurring infection, Robin succumbed to congestive heart failure on July 5th.  For some reading, this is the first you're hearing of it, and I apologize for that.  Kyrie did the best she could to notify people, with very little help from me.  None of us are completely recovered.  

In a frantic burst of obsessive energy, I gathered what I could find of Robin's creative writing and had it published.  If you don't yet have a copy, please inform me of my oversight.  It was a promise I'd made, and I couldn't rest until it was fulfilled.

We hosted a dinner in October in her memory.  It reminded me of the dinner we held for our 30th anniversary, and I wish we could have repeated for our 40th.  I tried to speak with everyone, but know that I failed – I hope we get more chances.  Some people even brought owl-themed gifts, which made me cry.  Some of them are on my Christmas tree.  

In an eerie stroke of serendipity, the manager of the venue (the Starlight Chateau) wants to retire, and there is a possibility that Arthur will take over the business.  We've spent a few hours in meetings, and it's all very tentative.  Still, one can almost feel a bit of spiritual intervention in how this has come about.

I put the books out again this Halloween, as I will do every year.  There were more visitors this year than I can recall ever having before, and I was ill-prepared for them.  Later I learned that a nearby neighbor, who runs a daycare and a community garden, had sent them over.  Robin has made small donations to that garden.  I may never know how many lives she's influenced.  

Arthur and Anita took me along with them on their Disney cruise.  They'd planned it a year beforehand, and by the time we lost Robin, nothing was refundable, so instead they expanded the package.  We wanted Kyrie and Rick to come too, but they couldn't take the time off.  Overall, it was a healing experience, though I did think a lot about those not present.  I appreciated the time spent surrounded by family.  We visited three countries, and I left a Bookcrossing book in each one.  Ellie petted a sea turtle.  We nearly got eaten by mosquitoes at a Mayan ruin.  I bought some Jamaican rum, and some touristy junk.  I also spent quite a bit of time watching the ocean.  It reminded me of the time spent fishing off the docks at Rockaway.

As it turns out Kyrie might have had time to go, if she had known.  She changed jobs this year, and now works at Nebraska Medicine.  It was a good move, professionally speaking, and puts her in a position for advancement.  She and Rick are happy together, and would be happier still if they had similar schedules.  

Kyrie had some trouble with a neighbor who built a fence right up against her house.  We finally got them to move it, but they sure weren't happy about it.  The expensive lawyer we retained didn't do any of that; all it took was a land surveyor and a complaint to the zoning dept.

Arthur is still substitute teaching and working front desk at a local motel in Missouri, accumulating just enough hours that he can't be classified as full-time.  He couldn't perform the Renaissance Faire circuit as usual this year, due to helping out so much here, but I did get to see him in October.  Performed with him, actually.  I hope to do more of that.  

As for my own career, I'm one of the UP survivors.  Or perhaps the term “hostage” might fit better.  The company's version of “precision scheduled railroading” seems to mostly consist of doing the same work with a third of the workforce.  I'm working second shift, and will do so for one more year – just to minimize change.  There has been too much change in my life lately, and I need it to settle down.  After that year, though, I will move to another shift.  The reason is simple:  I can't let myself turn into a hermit.  If I have not become more social after a year, then I will have to force myself out of the house.

Early this year, I entered a writing contract to adapt a webcomic to novel form.  I finished four chapters before July.  Hopefully I can get back into a regular writing schedule before he gives up on me completely.

I have two more cats now, thanks to Kyrie.  She rescued a kitten this year, who turned out to be a mama.  Too young for the role, but she performed flawlessly.  The kittens I agreed to adopt are already bigger than the original.  Orange troublemakers.  I spoil them shamelessly.  

I opened this letter with the worst news, and I'm sorry if I rained on your holiday.  The fact is, I wish everyone unbounded joy, this and every year.  Hug your loved ones.  Take all the time off work that you can.  Make happy memories.

I love you all,

John

The 5 Stages of Grief Are Bullshit

My grief comes in waves.  I can be fine for a while, and then something sets it off.

I got hit by a big one tonight.  Worse than I've felt in at least a week.  I don't even know what started it this time.  I think I was telling one of the cats that she just had to deal with me for a while.  Next thing I knew, I was bawling.

And here's the thing:  The whole "five stages thing" -- denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance -- it doesn't work like that.  I don't have any clear emotions or stages going on here.  It's all a big maelstrom, all swirled together.

And nobody ever mentions the guilt.

What hurts me the most is the absolute certainty that everything could have been different, if only I'd acted sooner.  Insisted that she just get to a follow-up appointments sooner, even if it meant going to a cardiologist when she didn't think she needed one.

So, yeah.  I blame myself.  She didn't deserve this.  She started last year in a positive direction, her diabetes and blood pressure under control, her weight coming under control, her energy level rising.  She didn't deserve a slow deterioration of health, only to spend the last few months of her life in and out of the hospital.  To die away from home.

I failed her.  She deserved better.

Is this depression?  Anger?  It can't be denial, because I sure as hell know what happened.  I was in the goddamn room.  There's no one for me to bargain with, unless I go off the rails and start believing that Doctor Who is real.  What can I do but accept what is?  Yet, how on Earth can I accept a future without my center?

If there's any one word that comes close to describing how I feel, it's "lost."

I know I'm not tired.  I have a bad habit if saying to myself, "I'm tired."  It's from years of being actually tired, but also I'd say it when I was just unhappy.  I catch myself saying "I'm tired" now, and I know better.  I'm not tired.  I wasn't tired nearly as often as I told myself I was.  I'm just very, very unhappy,  and don't know what to do about it.

That was me tonight.

Next wave, who knows?  I might start tearing up at happy memories.  I might get stuck searching old chat logs.  I might go on a cleaning frenzy, trying to get rid of things that have no use but to bring on more waves.

Or I might successfully distract myself for another couple of weeks.

The kids have been so good to me.  Much better than I deserve.  Robin raised them very well.  They're my purpose now, and I've no intention of doing anything stupid that would cause them more grief.  I may not be as strong as I thought I was, but I will be stronger than that.  That's not what any of this is about.

When I do figure out what it's about, I'll write about that.

Alone (not alone)

Arthur and Anita (A2) have gone back to Missouri.  They put their lives on hold for us, for months.  As Anita put it, it feels like they came for Easter just last week.  But they stayed, and helped through Robin's entire illness and recovery cycle, three hospital stays, and finally sat shiva with me after her death.  (No, we're not Jewish, it just ended up being seven days.)  They were going to split up again, leaving Arthur here with me, but I told them that they have to get some balance back into their lives, be with each other.  In about a week, they'll be back for the rest of their things.

I've been alone before; I know how to do it.  The Army sent me to Korea for a whole year.  Various business trips, lasting from one week to four.  I've just never felt alone, not since we first became engaged.  I always knew it was temporary.

And I'm not really alone, even now.  Kyrie is literally only blocks away, walking distance, and I'll see her again on Monday. 

It's that hole-in-the-heart thing, again.  With constant company, it's a little easier to distract myself from it, but hasn't left me. 

I know this will improve.  No, scratch that.  I know that I can do this.  I don't know that it will get any better.

Deep breath.

Wave has passed.

We're all planning to do more together.  Possibly a Branson trip in late August.  The remembering in late September.  Kyrie suggested that she and Rick go with me on a karaoke night (side note: she doesn't really like karaoke), which would have to wait until after the next shift change.  Maybe even accompany A2 on their cruise if a larger cabin opens up. 

You know.  All the things that Robin would have done, if her health permitted.

No, that's not fair.  She did do some of these things, when she felt better in the past.  Still, I have a right to rant and rail against the universe for denying her more of them.  And a little bit against myself, if I'm being honest.

She deserved more.

She's still the glue that holds us all together.  I like to think she'd be happy about that.  I certainly still feel her love all around me, through the kids, and I hope they can feel it from me, too.  That's why I know I can do this.

Hang on, another wave.

This, more than anything, makes me want to believe in something beyond this life. 

Okay, time to stop this, and go to sleep.  

Junebug

I don't believe that anyone in my immediate family gets along with nature.  The worst is my daughter, who freaks out over moths.  Yes, moths.

But I can't criticize.  When I was young (not yet in school young), my aunt nicknamed me Junebug.  This was because I could not (cannot) stand buzzing bugs.  So she (junior high age at the time) would chase me with junebugs.  The little brown-green beetles that don't really do much EXCEPT fly around an buzz.

Yeah.

These days my best defense against bugs is the vacuum cleaner.  I never even thought of that until a couple of years ago when I saw my daughter-in-law dispose of a wasp that way.  I don't consider myself stupid, but I do sometimes get trapped into certain ways of thinking.

Don't even ask how old I was when I finally got the "get down from a duck" joke.

When I got to college I got a new nickname.

Spider.

Myxing It Up

I have developed a myxoid cyst on my pinky finger. This is not a dangerous or a painful thing, it's actually quite common. Sometimes they go away on their own, sometimes they need to be lanced, and sometimes just pressure can be enough. In "olden time" they used to slam a Bible on your fingers to get rid of them. I think I'd never complain about a second one!



Too bad I didn't know about these decades ago. My wife, son, and I were out hiking when he fell and sprained his wrist. He got a huge bump on his wrist that lasted long after the sprain was healed. Like a lot of people, we didn't have insurance at the time, so couldn't readily get a doctor's opinion (not that I trust the doctors in that town, anyway, but that's a different story). So he lived with this bump for a while.



But it never left our minds. One day my wife was examining the bump, when she put a bit of pressure on it and it sort of popped, but internally. It was gone, it didn't hurt him, but the fear that she had done her son some permanent damage never left her mind.



Until I got a myxoid cyst on my finger. Finally the wrist bump is explained, and there was never a cause for alarm.



Nature is a wonderful thing, but it's much better having insurance, I think, if only for the peace of mind.

Un-friend

Twenty-five years ago, my favorite aunt refused to take my phone call over a misunderstanding.  I was devastated.

Five years ago, the same relative blocked my on MySpace.  Over a misunderstanding.  I was hurt.

Today, she blocked me on Facebook.  I am merely annoyed.

This time, it may have been my fault.  My wife says I antagonized her.  I didn't think that was what I was doing, but I am kinda tired of her crap.  She gets so upset if she thinks someone is attacking her church that she can't think rationally, and I knew when I pressed the issue -- even in a private message -- that she'd overreact.

The people who are most important to me, today, all understand (or should) that I love them no less if I question their beliefs.  If not, then I guess I'll end up alone and unloved.  Because, if I haven't offended someone yet, it's only because I haven't gotten around to it.  Anyone who can't handle that, maybe this is a good time to follow suit.

As for my favorite blood relative (before I had kids), if she wants to be in contact with me again, she knows where I am.