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August 02, 2004

Company's coming!

Here at Casa de Special Project we’ve been preparing for our next wave of visitors. El Jefe is dropping in on Thursday for a long weekend. After that Fabulous Babe’s sister and family arrive next Friday. My advice if you want to visit: book early. *chuckle*

Fabulous Babe has been having some trouble with her efforts to mend. Nothing doctor worthy but she’s very aware of her limits. Lifting Jack in and out of the car twice seems to be the extent of what she can do. This limitation collides violently with her desire to get out of the house however. (She’s getting cabin fever.) She has been getting caught up on Doctor Phil much to my horror.

My grandfather has been ill of late. Last week there was a thought we might have to make a 15+ hour drive back to the homeland. He’s out of the hospital and we should hear something about the test results. That’s dependant on us having been granted a high enough security clearance by my grandmother. She’s tighter with information than the NSA. (She put the word “sneak” in sneakers.) Here’s a great example from last week:

“So his carotid artery is blocked.”
“How are they going to treat him?”
“When you say “medicine” do you mean medicine or surgery?”
“What does your definition of “surgery” mean exactly?”


It’s like trying to get information out of a hostile witness. Imagine what it was like when I was a kid. Other kids had Tinker toys; I had "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy." (It's a book and a great tv series with Alec Guiness. Look it up.)

One of the cats, we’re not sure which, is in open rebellion since Jack’s arrival. No need to use the litter box when a nice section of the unfinished basement floor behind the furnace is available. I think its Aida but haven’t bothered to set up the camera to confirm. This may mean we have to go to two litter boxes. Oh Joy!

Jack continues to eat, poop and be merry. FB has expanded production and is now rivaling OPEC on daily output. God bless Medela’s founder, Olle Larsson. If alive I can only imagine him on a beach lighting cigars with the local currency. He must have Scrooge McDuck’s 3 cubic acres of money.

Posted by Jim at August 2, 2004 11:06 PM