Number 4: My four boys and their spouses
Number 5: My grandchildren
I am too old to write a blog. Do you know how hard it is to describe people without using 1001 cliches? Do you know hard it is when you can't find the photos you want, and everything you once knew about blogging has been erased from your memory? Dammit! Dammit! And again. Dammit.
Tom and I have decided to commit double suicide by lying around and watching insipid television until our bed sores become infected or we get a flesh eating disease and we melt into the sofa and/or mattress.
We actually watched two seasons of Virgin River, which is nothing but a long soap opera filmed in stunning British Columbia, although we're meant to think it's northern California. Most of the characters are neurotic manipulators who should be strangled. There weren't nearly enough murders. We couldn't stop watching.
Okay--I am thankful for the wonderful liverwurst at the Harmon's cheese counter. I can't get enough. My father loved liverwurst. It was his birthday yesterday. He turned 104. Last week was Mother's birthday. She turned 99.
That's it for today: gratitude for liverwurst.
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