Come In From the Cold…

Precious and poor little Maggie was freezing this morning. The temperature in my house was 65 degrees and Maggie couldn’t snuggle up tighter to me this morning than she already was. Two peas in a pod as the old saying goes. I set the heat to 74 and it felt like a heat wave with heat blasting out of my floor vents. I was toasty warm as I had fallen asleep with my heavy clothes on.  Soon, Charlie arrived around 10 a.m. with breakfast and gave me a reason to get out of bed. We had two sausage biscuits and McDonald’s hash browns. Maggie and I got one each. Maggie doesn’t always get her own breakfast so she was an extremely happy dog. Charlie was in jovially good spirits. His next stop was his sister’s house in my neighborhood. “Go eat your breakfast before it gets cold,” Charlie told me. I later drove over to my parents house around lunch to get my sodas for the day. Dad was giving the house a thorough cleaning and this had me perplexed. “I’m doing all the things that Helen will not do,” he told me finally assuaging my curiosity. Seems to me that he was cleaning behind all the furniture in the house. “Do you want to clean the chandelier?” my father asked me. I stammered on my words, but basically said I better not. He said he was getting the house ready for the holidays and hosting various activities.  Sunday evenings is fried chicken tonight.  Charlie and dad like Popeye’s. Mom, Horsefly, and I like KFC. We all three get the chicken t...

Source: The 4th Avenue Blues - November 10, 2013 Category: Mental Illness Authors: Andrew Quixote Source Type: blogs