the more things stay the same...

I just spent a week with my parents.

Dad was recently diagnosed with a heart condition.
Mom has some issues, too.

They aren't inclined to question doctors, instead answering my queries over some of their more alarming symptoms with, "Well, my blood work looks good."

Um, okay. But that's not why you made the appointment.
It aggravates the hell out of me. Not that I can do anything about it.

I bought my dad some diabetic socks. He's not a diabetic, but the heart condition is making his ankles swell and regular socks really hurt him. To me it seemed like a small thing, I bought him a dozen pairs from Amazon. But he was very appreciative.

I went over to help them get ready for company. And to see them, of course. We don't see each other often, it's really amazing when I have enough time off all in a row to do so. And Mom really shouldn't be making the long drive to us anymore, she is, um, not as fast at reacting behind the wheel as she used to be.

In their little tiny town, the maximum speed limit is 25.
She doesn't speed.
Sometimes she's going 25 over here, actually. The speed limit may say 40, but she seems to be stuck in the slower mode. Impeding the flow of traffic is a little dangerous, really. Especially because of the frantic pace that people usually move around here. When she gets on the freeway, everyone going 70 in a 55, she gets in the middle lane and pokes along at 50. When she comes up behind someone who is slower than she is, she will stomp on the gas, get up to 70 and whip around them, then get back in the middle lane and slow down again. Years of living in the land of two lane highways, I guess, but it's really sort of frightening.


When they came over for Matt and Amy's wedding almost 3(!!) years ago, Mom and I went out the day before the wedding to get flowers and assorted stuff. Mom started out driving (we took her vehicle because she can't get in and out of ours, it's too low to the ground) but I took over.

Ostensibly because I knew all of our destinations, but mostly because she was making me crazy. We'd be in a long line of traffic, a green light ahead and she'd hit the brakes as we approached intersections. Slow waaaay down, look both ways, then punch it.

Other drivers honked, swerved around her, made gestures. She was oblivious. So after our first stop, I suggested that I drive while she 'relax and look at the scenery'.

But lookie there.. I've digressed. It's really almost a religion with me. And admit it, one of the reasons you read here. :)

This was supposed to be about my visit.

About 9 years ago now, my brother Dick (of Dick and Snatchie fame) decided my parents needed a dog. So instead of getting them an older dog, or one with a reputation for being mellow, he got them a Jack Russell fucking Terrier.

Daisy.
She's mellowed a little with age.
A little. Although it's odd to see, she's now corpulent. Sort of like a furry sausage with legs.
She is most definitely a lap dog.

She gets bored. She's smart and doesn't have anything to do. My parents love her. She loves them, too. But it wasn't a good thing to get them such a high maintenance dog. They are not good dog owners.
If only love was everything you'd need...

So. This dog barks. And barks. And barks.
Yap yap yap yap yap yapyapyapyap.

They put her out in the early morning in a little dog yard they've constructed for her and go back to bed.

It's right under the window of the guest bedroom. Deer and other critters are constantly in the yard, birds fly over, cars go by on the little road down below. Flies fart.

All of those things are an excuse to bark.

I didn't get a lot of sleep over there.
I actually chatted with a friend online, so it's all written down in a short format. I'll try to get it written up for you, it really is kind of funny.
Aggravating.
But humorous.

Another week of LEGO camp is over. I have to admit that I'm glad about it.
Now that I've run the camp a few times, I can see many things I would do differently if given the opportunity.

We'll see.