Today

I was sick yesterday. Since I don't actually get sick very often, it always seems like an assault to me. My stomach was taken over by demons--the kind that make you feel like vomiting would save your life. ech Well, the demons have been exorcised but I'm in that sort of half-light place where it feels that they went off and left a lot of pop cans, gum wrappers and grafitti all over the place. But I can think about getting some work done around my house--I did nothing yesterday, and go grocery shopping--again, nothing yesterday, and maybe even cooking a little ahead for next week--yep, nothing there either yesterday. 40 days to go until I retire. Now I'm excited for my girls and their boys to come. This is going to be such a fun couple of months!

Loose thoughts

Today is Flag Day. When we were little, Gramps (Ralph Beaman, Grammy's father) had a tall flagpole in his front yard and raised the flag on each "flag" occasion. Our neighbors the Carters (they lived next door to my great grandparents, Pa and Ma) also had a flagpole. On the flag morning, Gramps and Mr. Carter always hurried out to raise the flag--Gramps would always mention that either he beat Mr. Carter or Mr. Carter beat him in raising the flag. If you were quiet in the morning you could hear reveille blow on the Naval bases down near the harbor--that was Gramps' cue to get out there with his flag (actually on the nights when I was still awake, I could also hear taps blow at 10:00pm). The truly interesting part of this story is that Gramps died on June 12, and was buried on June 14th (Flag Day) under a waving flag (as a World War I veteran, he also had a flag-draped coffin). In fact, all the flags were flying in San Diego that day for his ride from the Funeral Home to the cemetery. I know he would have loved it. He used to take us (Bobby and me) on Sunday afternoons to the cemetery to feed the swans. He loved those swans. His grave is located right across from the swan lake and just down from the flagpole. It all just seemed so appropriate! Tomorrow is Scott's birthday. He would be 39! Christy says that is hard to imagine, because even though he is her older brother, he always seems like a little guy. I have 54 days until I retire. I can barely wait. I can't remember the last time I anticipated an event with so much eagerness. Plus, I'm going to get to see Amy and Jakey (don't know if James can come--haven't heard that part yet) and Christy.