Baseball . . . and family

Doug Davis is a pitcher for my Arizona Diamondbacks. Earlier this season, he was taken out of the lineup when it was discovered that he had thyroid cancer. After a relatively short period of treatment following successful surgery, he came back to the team. Tonight, he came close to pitching a perfect game. That's a game where no one from the other team ever reaches base, whether by a hit or a walk. Davis was perfect almost through the 7th inning. He had two outs and two strikes on a third batter when it came apart. But he eventually won the game after a miraculous catch in the deep outfield by a rookie, Alex Romero, on a hit that would have tied or won the game. A great night of baseball.

My brother turns 75 tomorrow. I talked to him on the telephone this evening. He says he doesn't think much about this milestone but I think he will spend some sleepless hours tonight. I think it's a pretty big landmark date to have reached. As I told him this evening, only 25 more and you get the big 100. He just chuckled.

A cousin of mine, who is the same advanced age as I am (68), has just learned the name of her true father. Neither her mother, the man who raised her as his daughter, nor her grandmother would ever tell her the man's name. Finally, the husband of a half-sister came to her and revealed the identity. She has now met the half-sister and learned of a now-deceased half-brother. She is very happy to finally learn the identity of her father and of her true family identity. I am happy for her. My brother is not. He thinks she should not have pursued it when she first heard of it. Needless to say, the rest of the family, from what I know, disagree with him. But what can I say. He's always been a strange man. He's my only sibling and I haven't seen him for 20 years. We have very, very little in common.

Strange . . . the patterns life has of working itself out.

Here kitty, kitty, kitty!

Ah the tide is changing.

Mike has a new cat!

Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh!

Summertime

And the livin' is easy.

I don't know why Smoke tends to lie upside down but that's his favorite position. It may be for purposes of cooling.

Muggles, on the other hand, stays on her side, usually. She is, however, difficult to sneak up on.

You've all heard of "Dog Days"?

Think "Cat Days" in these parts.

Incidentally, there's one more cat around here somewhere but Jazz is hiding out.

Later:

Jazz surfaced at some time and has found a spot for her snooze on the couch.

Temper, temper

Here is why excessive booze, non-functioning lawn mowers and guns don't mix.

A Milwaukee, Wisconsin, man has been arrested after shooting his lawn mower with a sawed off shotgun after it wouldn't start.

He said it was his yard and his lawn mower and he should be able to do whatever he wants.

A woman who lives with him and called police said he was intoxicated.

Fabulous Friday Foolery

It's the end of the week as I used to know it. Friday evening was a time for getting drunk. In most times it meant no more work for two days and then back to it. I've been retired (mostly) for a couple of years now but I still think of Friday night as the end of the week.


Tomorrow there's something to celebrate: Mick Jagger becomes 65 years old. Like me, there's no sign that Jagger is planning on retiring. Unlike me, Jagger is still trim and wiry. (The bastard!)



SWMBO and I spent several hours today getting a family trust set up. We don't have much in it right now but we have some hopes for the future. SWMBO says it will eliminate probate when we both fade quietly into the sunet.


Speaking of that, I'm happy to report . . . in light of a post a couple of days ago . . . that "I'm Still Here."

Why I don't watch the news

I broke a rule today and watched Barack Obama's speech in Berlin. Quite good, I thought. But afterwards, as he was walking through the crowd, MSNBC reporter Andrea Mitchell interrupted the NBC Political Reporter Chuck Todd . . . who was making a somewhat valid point about the stagecraft . . . to breathlessly inform the audience that NBC anchorman Brian Williams was now walking alongside Obama. Well, as they used to say in pre-television days, "Stop the presses!" A little later, Mitchell felt it necessary to point out that Williams was now interviewing Obama.

What I'd like to know is who pays her salary: the news department or the promotion department!

The Myth of Threes

A week or so ago, a new neighbor to our left came over and asked SWMBO if she would come over to witness her signature on some kind of paper. It turned out to be permission for a hospice to offer care to the lady's father. Dad was in a recliner of sorts hooked up to oxygen and not looking well.

A day or so later, I was picking up my mail and saw the lady sitting outside and went over to say hello. As I neared her I saw that she was sobbing, with tears running down her face. She told me her father had just died.

- - - - - -

This morning, I noticed a large group of people and cars at a house on the other side of our house. Later, when the crowd had thinned but a young woman was outside, I walked over and asked her if something bad had happened. She told me her father had died in his sleep only a few hours ago.

I had just spoken to him last night as I was checking the sky for clouds and a nice sunset. He was sitting outside his home and waved and seemed fine. He was a nice man and we'll miss him.

- - - - - -

But, as SWMBO said: maybe we should get out of town for awhile. And a friend who I told the story this afternoon said that might not be a bad idea and raised the myth of threes. Well, I know that happens with celebrities and people in the news. If two die, a third one follows shortly. But I'm not superstitious or worried.

However.

If you don't hear from me for awhile . . . .