Picture of Bob's Big Woody

Doc loves wood and carts his lathes and chisels from New York to John Prince. He has an earlier vintage Bluebird Wanderlodge. They hold value like crazy because they were built by the schoolbus people and you can still buy parts off the shelf. They were built like tanks but are the "plain janes" of the RV world. Bob made a "woody" out of his. So cool.

When I was running Honey this morning I ran into Ted Fish. He was in a lather. His wife is in the hospital. She has been having dizzy spells and had a bad one. Tests began. She has had a series of tiny strokes. The Scan picked up some anomalies in her lungs. She is being biopsied for cancer. We are all just sick about it. They were my first neighbors in the park and Ted was very helpful to me. I thought she was indestructible. They have kids in Atlanta though they live in New Jersey. Lots of decisions to be made.

Then I stopped to pick up my mail and Lisa, the head clerk was holding some lady and comforting her. She came to look up a friend and discovered she had passed away here in the park. I was touched that Lisa was so tender with a stranger. Of course many of the residents are closer to "terminal" than the average population. Maybe it is covered in the employee's manual. The Rosenbergs and I reacted identically: Enjoy Every Day You Have. So I cleaned things today.

As for me, I also rode the bike, visited with folks, gave away some of the huge banana bunch that broke a limb at Jason's house-at least 30 pounds intact, got the new element put into the hot water heater. It works but I swear I can pee warmer water than it makes. (Not that I ever checked, mind you). I was hoping for tapwater coffee. I am biding my time for Mme. Latour. She has been making the rounds conspiring for "simple" get-togethers. The bitch don't cook! Nobody has ever said a word. They get invited, nobody expects them to do anything, but now we have to have weenie roasts! I told Nicole that Jeanne does not get to set the agenda. The way it works is somebody extends an invitation. You either accept or refuse. I enjoy the occasional weenie roast but I left that "lowest common denominator" at the schoolhouse door.

Now we will think pleasant thoughts or I may be joining Mrs. Fish at the medical center.