Saturday, December 28, 2013

4 days left in 2013, trying to think if I did any good deeds

I was looking for a new font and got some strange ones so back to this.  My body is telling me that I have lived every day of nearly the end of 2013. It is just perfectly content to stay home, except when it is time for the hair to be done.  If I can’t get to a hairdresser, when needed I just may have to wear a bandana on my head like some bald men do when out in the hot sun.  My alcoholic neighbor ties a big blue kerchief around his empty bald head.  Can anyone tell, I do not like that man?  I noticed Joe’s is getting a little thinner but I have no room to talk.  Mine is to.  Ron was telling me that him and Kathy went to her mom’s for a belated Christmas dinner.  Her mom used to own a bar in Dorchester and divorced which ever husband she had then and sold the bar.  Then she hooked up with her live in until they surprised everyone and got married after he inherited a quite a lot of money.  They both have serious health issues, especially her mom.  She is a little older than I am and weighs about 98 pounds. They drink and smoke like crazy.  They are all both set with wills and  their funerals paid for.  They not only have health issues but alcohol issues.  They drink daily.  Ron said they walk in the house and it reeks of cigarettes.  Jack just came into his money about 2 and a half years ago.  The last 2  Christmases right in front of Ron he writes her a check at Christmas for  over 5,000.00 dollars with Kathy’s name on it.  It is like Ron doesn’t exist.  It just makes Ron feel like a no body, and he has been there for her parents as much as for us.  She puts it in a Crete bank and she has to have it set up to where no statements about the account come to their house.  Ron said he does not want any part of the money but it is such an obvious snub to Ron, he always gets down in the dumps..  He said it is always so out in the open and so obvious they don’t want his name in the account.  Well I have used  up my blog time and not mentioned  Spunky .  I can’t do that.  He had a kind of Christmas hangover  yesterday.  He slept most of the day but he is ok cause I go in the kitchen and look around and he is sitting in the doorway, waiting for a handout.

5 comments :

jack69 said...

Ahhh, the old "I don't want to go anywhere" statement, Immediately followed EXCEPT the Beauty Shop. Did I say anyone could tell you are a lady without seeing a picture! hahahahhahaha! You girls and the hair=do folks.

some folk always have a problem with money, especially on 2nd marriages when children are involved.

It is very stupid/inconsiderate to try to makes someone feel awkward about personal gifts to a spouse. But if they get along it is not worth causing a break up.

Not fun, I am sure.

Love from Florida.

Chatty Crone said...

Well good afternoon. I am content in my home - more then my daughter. She needs to go out all the time. Drives me nuts because she wants me to go with her.

I think money is a hard issue. People's real colors come out. Is this your son and DIL? I think the real issue is why she goes along with it.

Spunky is looking good.

sandie

shirl72 said...

I love to see Spunky tearing into
his presents. Glad he is improving.
I would understand if Ron was hurt,
I don't feel that is right.
I would understand if Ron was hurt,
I know I would be.

Paula said...

I like to get out but not the kind of "get out" most people like. I like country roads but last night we didn't get home until three this morning from John's family get together. I hate riding with someone else then you're stuck no matter how tired you get.

TARYTERRE said...

Some people can be very insensitive to others.

About Me

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Lincoln, Ne., United States
I am married, had 5 children. 4 boys and 1 girl. Oldest is deceased. 9 grand kids, 10 great grand child and 2 more on the way. .I love hearing from people, and have made some true friends on the blog, (I think) I hope. We have a fat beagle named Spunky 5 years old and spoiled rotten, but we are huge dog lovers. Married 44 years.