Category: Family

There was no Monday Links post this week because The Wife and I celebrated our fourth anniversary by heading up to St. Augustine for the weekend. It’s a special place for us, and we enjoy seeing familiar sights. We spent more time around the fort than normal (not just because of the cannon demonstration). I needed to examine the grounds. I have a story idea worming around my head that involves the fort, necromancy, and other fabulous concepts. There was also the purchase of a new hat for me. It’s much more in the “Justified” vein.

During the time, I asked The Wife if she wanted to go see the new John Wick film. Her response was “I am not mentally prepared to handle that today.” There was further hilarity when MIL’s phone unexpectedly ran dry and then we couldn’t get a hold of her. Until we used the Echo in her room. Which she was unprepared to hear my voice coming out of it.

In a more serious vein, while we were gone, some thugs decided that the intersection at the front of our subdivision was a good place to do a street show. Let’s just say I was a bit concerned.

This week was also the “week of doors”. We replaced the original door on the master shower with a very nice sliding glass job. The one that came with shower stall was being difficult. And I didn’t like that the door opened out into the bathroom due to water going all over the floor. Of course, nothing goes smoothly, but the one small hiccup was just a small one that will have no real impact.

We also had a retractable screen door installed on the front door. Because the HOA will not let us screen in the front porch. Feckers. The installer also helpfully informed us that Ward Manor’s front door is crooked. Yay. Feckers. It made us glad we paid for install, because if we had to deal with that on our own? Let’s just say there would have been nasty words, frustration, tears, and probably blood. One thing we didn’t realize is that the screen door isn’t connected on the bottom. So, now it’s off to find a cat blocker of some type.

I wonder if they make plexiglass grates.

Now back to introducing MIL to Justified.

As I’ve said before, The Wife has furiously taken up crocheting. Particularly – as she calls them – stuffies. Some Woobles kits, but some that she’s done from patterns. I joked a while back that she should do Baby Cthulhu.

The joke turned out to be not a joke. And I have a Baby Cthulhu sitting on my desk now.

One of my co-workers thinks is really cool. The rest? They’re muggles when it comes to Lovecraft.

Now to convince her to make one for the Grand Niece. Maybe if I suggest it be pink?

Last Thursday’s post was not supposed to be about the 40th anniversary of Quiet Riot’s Metal Health. Last Thursday’s post should have been a video of me giving a speech to my Toastmasters club. Except, I didn’t get to make that speech.

Tuesday afternoon, The Wife’s father was taken from his memory-care facility to the nearby hospital because he kept vomiting and they couldn’t get it stopped. Okay, not the first time the MCF sent him over there. He’d been over there for falls and COVID and other issues.

On our way to Toastmasters, the attending doc called The Wife. Bloodwork is good, but there are some troubling signs with some of the indicators. Possible organ failure. We let the club know we weren’t coming and went to go meet up with the family. We ended up at Brother-In-Law’s house with BIL, SIL, MIL, and The Wife. Another call with another doctor. Maybe not as bad. Possibly dehydration may be the reason for the oddness. They’ll keep him overnight and monitor. The Wife, MIL, and me go home.

0130 Wednesday morning – MIL wakes up The Wife and me. Hospital called and things are not looking good. Better get the family to the hospital. Not immediate, but pretty soon. The Wife and I logged into our work to knock out a few things until BIL and SIL woke up around three (we’re all early risers in this family). BIL and SIL pick us up and we head down to the hospital.

The Wife’s Father passed away at a quarter to seven on Wednesday morning.

The family is doing okay. He’d been in the memory-care facility for the last 18 months. They’d been down this road before with other family members. He’d been gone for them for awhile. Tears were shed. Words were spoken. The process began.

Life goes on. There’s no other choice.

The Wife picked up crocheting in the last couple of months. While MIL is a big crocheter of afghans, sweaters, and such, The Wife is much more into making stuffed animals. Like a penguin, cats, a Hello Kitty. You get the idea. So, we’re sitting in bed and this comes up.

The Wife: What pattern should I do next?

Derek furiously searches and sends over a pattern.

The Wife: That’s cute. What is it?

Derek: That’s Totoro.

Derek furiously searches and sends over another pattern. The Wife looks and puts her phone in my face.

The Wife: Does this look like something that <The Wife’s name> would actually make?

Derek: But it’s Baby Cthulhu!

The Wife: Well, I guess it is kinda cute.

Not sure what she’ll make next, but I keep pushing the geek stuff.

Monday links are going to be late this week due to the day job needing some overtime. However, there were some happenings around Ward Manor. Namely, as the title states, The Wife, MIL, and I trekked up to Tampa and went to the Florida State Fair. Since we had MIL with us, we got to use her handicap placard. That does make parking a bit easier. And much closer.

One of the nice things about the State Fair is getting through security when you have a CCW. Just walk up to the deputies, let them verify your license, and then you’re on your merry way. No need to empty your pockets or have someone pawing through your carry bag.

I’m guessing that FFA was having their animals judged because there was a sea of blue jackets all day. Damn, those kids were young. It’s hard to believe that it’s been thirty years since I wore my own blue jacket.

We walked around Cracker Country to see the old buildings. Then off to look at the entries and winners for the various arts and crafts contests. There were some very interesting paintings, photographs, and other personal crafts. Then off to the “Artisan Marketplace,” as the fair officials were calling it this year. Imagine your local craft fair vendors in a big hall, and that’s kind of what it was. We picked up some small kitty blankets with catnip sewn in as well as some scented wax melts. It still doesn’t match the crowd of stalls we saw pre-pandemic, but it wasn’t too bad.

Expo Hall was its normal mix of second-hand vendors, woo purveyors, and MLM hawkers. We didn’t buy anything, but it was interesting to see what was on display. Surprisingly, there was no one selling Watkins stuff. My mom sold it when we were kids, so there’s a bit of nostalgia there.

We did bypass the fair food. I don’t have the calories for the offerings. Although the big one this year was a Cuban sandwich with the bread replaced by funnel cake. I will admit some curiosity, but not enough to spend the money, calories, or time later suffering from the inevitable GI fun.

All in all, it was an enjoyable couple of hours.

The Brother and I lost our father, and our mom lost her husband. Fuck cancer.

In the intervening years, I realize how much I’ve grown to be like my dad. In my mannerisms, my speech, my way of viewing the world – at least on a personal level. To say my dad and I would have disagreed on politics…

When I wrote about this five years ago, I was still feeling the dichotomy of the event feeling like it happened last week and a long time ago. I’ve lost that feeling of immediacy. Some of that I’m just chalking up to my life going on – and all the changes that have happened in those five years. I still wish The Wife would have had the chance to meet my dad. They would have gotten on well. Plus, I think Dad would have known that I would turn out okay. Which I’m not sure he knew at the time.

At the time of his death, I was still living at home in my mid-twenties and marrying a woman I should have really known was not good for me. In the last two decades, I realized how much I grew up when Dad passed. I can remember the feeling of my “safety net” being taken away – and that I now had to step up. It wasn’t an immediate change. I still fumbled for years. But I can’t deny that Dad’s passing was a major turning point in my life – and how I approached life.

I miss you Dad. But thank you for helping me become the man that I am. And wanted to be.

Overall, the long weekend was uneventful at Ward Manor.

On Saturday, while The Wife, MIL, and SIL went out to explore Hobby Lobby and other commercial enterprises, I decided to lounge around and watch anime. This is kind of a golden age for anime fans. There are multiple streaming services dedicated to anime, and even most of the big ones have sections devoted to anime. It’s so much better than when I first got into it in the early to mid nineties where you might hear about a series at the comic shop and then go track it down at the video rental place or special order it.

Sunday we had planned to be productive. That failed. Although The Wife and MIL were semi-productive. The Wife has taken up crocheting and is in the process of making little stuffed animals. It’s been fun watching her take up a new crafting skill.

Monday was an early day for The Wife and me. The Ward Wagon managed to pick up a slow leak in one of the tires. We tried to get an appointment with the nearest branch of the dealership from where we purchased the Ward Wagon. Yeah, they didn’t return our call. The dealership we bought the Ward Wagon? They gave us an early morning slot. Great. It just means The Wife can’t sleep in on a holiday because the dealership is about sixty miles north of us. Turns out it was a nail, and road hazard took care of the replacement costs. Then we went down and had lunch with my mom and The Brother. Mom is trekking back to the Great White North this week, and this was our last time to visit with her. We had lunch at a nearby Peruvian place. If you’re in northern Hillsborough county, and you’re interested in Peruvian cuisine, I heartily recommend Costanera.

This was also the week that The Wife discovered why Freya sometimes comes in with a wet head. We thought she was just playing in the raised flower bed out on the back porch. That one has some tall plants. Nope. As The Wife put it, “Apparently we’re not done with the ‘playing in the toilet’ phase.” Yeah. Oh well, it means we’re going to have to be better at keeping the lids closed. Fun with kittens.

Last weekend was the memorial service for my paternal grandmother. It was a short service at the family plot. It was there that I realize that my grandma was a couple months of surviving her husband by 20 years. My uncle read the obit and followed by a short eulogy. It was a good service, and I was happy I went.

It was also good to see some family that I hadn’t laid eyes for years. Some of the Oklahoma folks made their way down, including one I hadn’t met yet. She just married into the clan last year. It may have been a good thing she only got a short blast of dealing with The Brother and me. The Wife integrates seamlessly with them. Sometimes it’s like she’s more part of that segment of the family than me. It’s a joke, but not much of one.

We had hoped to see them this week, as they had traveled over to spend some time at the Mouse House. Except the Ward Wagon developed a slow leak in the tire. I wasn’t going to trust that thing on the warzone that we call I-4.

Hopefully, we’ll get to see them next year. The eclipse is going go through part of Oklahoma – and I’d really like to experience that again.

Last year, my only goal was to get my weight back down to 200. To put it bluntly, I not only failed, but lost ground. So, I’m trying again this year.

I’ve found that my willpower is going in two to three week cycles. So, the main thrust of this goal is less working directly on my weight, and more working on my willpower. Building that “muscle” back to its strength back when I was in full “weight-loss” mode in 2017 to 2019.

Which means saying no to food outside my calorie budget. Saying yes to going to the gym, even when it’s cold, raining, or difficult to get moving.

I hope to have better news to relate at this time next year.