Zipper down. Again?
June 25, 2017
I have no clue of my nether region’s status from my vantage point located at a far higher altitude.
But before I get to the zipper part, I’ve got to button up a few things lest I forget.
Michael, our baby boy, got married last week. This is the only wedding picture we took:
You’ll have to take my word for it. They are a cute couple.
They were married in the LDS temple in Richland. It was a wonderful marriage and sealing performed by a good friend of ours named Lowell. I was one of the witnesses which is important to remember because of what happened later.
After the marriage we had a reception at Mike’s new in-laws.
If you’re looking for me, I’m the little tiny guy in the suit fifth in from the right, way in the back. I’m far more photogenic here than most of my photos.
Mike married way above himself as did my good wife Michele. Amelia has a great family and for once, we have in-laws that are located in the same galaxy as we are. This will be very helpful as Mike’s kids should be appearing in about 9 months from now and are far more likely to be around both sets of grandparents than our other far-away Utah, Texas and Arizona grand kids are.
So we had a family reunion previously planned at the family cabin at Priest Lake ID. Mike didn’t want to miss the reunion so the new couple decided to make our reunion their honeymoon. This Idaho location was the same place he proposed to Amelia last Thanksgiving. I guess since our family was involved with his proposal last winter he decided to include us in his honeymoon in the here and now.
I can’t think of a better place to spend a honeymoon than with the in-laws.
So we did the reunion/honeymoon thing. It was great. I spent a couple of days reading a biography about Lowell’s dad who I knew well. I enjoyed the book and called Lowell and told him so. For some reason, I completely spaced out on the fact that he had performed Michael’s marriage. At the end of our conversation I said “Oh, by the way, Michael got married Saturday.”
Lowell said that was nice.
That night about 2:00 am, I awoke with a start. I realized the big faux pas I had just made the night before. I felt terrible. I didn’t sleep the rest of the night.
I texted Lowell an apology as soon as I got up. Lowell texted me back that he didn’t know what a faux pas was since he spoke German and not French and then wished me and our family the best. I guess he was talking about the honeymoon.
This cobwebbed lapse in my spider cavern got me thinking. I arrived at the conclusion I’m getting Alzheimer’s.
My short-term recall should be recalled. It doesn’t work. Five seconds after I start looking for a tool, I have no idea what I’m looking for. I start out looking for a hammer and I come back with a nail.
Telling my wife about some average near-death experience I had earlier in the day is not possible. When I get to the scary part, I have not a clue how it turned out.
Every time I bump my head lately I hear a hollow echo. Q-tips go in much further than they used to. They even come out the other side now which never used to happen.
I walk around most of the time with my pants unzipped. I am positive I have zipped them up but it seems like every time I check, they are open for ventilation. Old Timer’s must be kicking in.
And then, even as a witness at a very memorable and unforgettable wedding, I forget who has just performed my kid’s marriage. And even worse, I call him up and tell him they got married like it is new news. The truth is that mentally I was kind of patting myself on the back for giving him the fresh news.
Next week, I’m going to start scouring the Tri-Cities old folk’s homes. I’ll see what I can afford and who will take me. Then I’ll write it down since there is no way I’ll remember what they tell me. My only problem will be settling on a date to tell them as to when to pick me up.
Back to the family reunion…
Once we got to the honeymoon cottage, my oldest son Derek promptly took over my duties as commander in chief without a whiff of permission from me. It was kind of a hostile takeover with him acting like Caesar Augustus. He could have at least asked me if he could run things during the reunion. Anybody who would put flowers in their hair and disrobe down to a toga deserves to be given the keys of the kingdom.
Notice how his wife on the right is completely ignoring him. I get the feeling she does this even when he doesn’t dress up.
Unfortunately, he had to turn things back over to me as he got sick that first night. I think it was the drafty toga.
So during the family get-together, we took a hike up a mountain. We were only 12 or 15 miles, as the crow flies, away from Ruby Ridge.
Our family has been coming up here since 1980. The government did their dirty, lie-packed bulling thing to the Weaver family in August of ’92. It’s likely I or one of my siblings were up here at the cabin while that needless lead-slinging and brutal power play was going on just a few miles away.
Because Randy Weaver refused to be a snitch for the feds, he became their enemy and they blew his wife’s brains out. Sorry about getting off track. Let’s just say I get bothered by some of Big Brother’s antics.
Anyway, we climbed up the afore mentioned mountain and took a rest with all the grand kids. The adults in the group kept talking about seeing a bald eagle and then laughing. I never saw one as I had such great cell service I couldn’t resist calling a few friends and bragging. The rest of my kinfolk were pointing and laughing at something behind the kids.
As I said, while we were on this mountaintop, I was amazed at the excellent cell service AT&T provided in this way out of the way place. I had five bars on my phone and we were many miles from the nearest settlement. I’ve never had five bars before, even in the metro center of downtown Basin City!
I just don’t get why I can’t have five bars any other place. You know, when and where I really need it. AT&T is wasting their bars in the middle of nowhere. Makes no sense at all.
So on the last day of our little vacation, one of my sisters called me up and gave me instructions to go out and clean up the dead wood on the hillside next to our cabin and to stack it in a nice little woodpile. I told her I didn’t have a chainsaw there.
That didn’t faze her. And then I asked her if she knew I’m on vacation and trying to recover from Alzheimer’s? She just keep giving me instructions. She went so far as to tell me to send her a picture of the wood pile after we finished.
I said ok. A couple hours later I Googled a picture of a stack of wood and sent it to her. This is her reply (I kid you not):
“Wow! I love it!”
Everything will be fine until she takes her turn at the cabin and starts looking for firewood.
I love my slightly ditsy and take-charge sister. I’ll miss her after I’m admitted to the home. Or maybe I just won’t remember her.
One thing I know for sure. She’s going to spend a long time looking for that pile of firewood.
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