I have not been accomplishing as much this week as last. I made a list yesterday and got most of the stuff done. Made a list today and got some of it done. Had Whitecar yesterday, but today am without wheels. I haven’t walked much since Saturday. Short walk yesterday and a longish visit with some of my neighbors. Physical therapy yesterday and will again this afternoon. Wasted less time today, but have accomplished less.

This morning my mom and a cousin came by the house. My cousin is elderly, but was coming to town to do some shopping, and wanted to see our house. Then we all went over to the sitter’s house to see Seventy-Six. My cousin hasn’t seen him since his birthday, and the little guy’s hair really started to curl in earnest since then. I’m not sure my son remembered her, but he warmed up to her pretty easily. He blew her kisses when I carried him back inside the house.

Shoulder’s hurting less today than it did this past weekend. My second post-operative checkup is Thursday morning, and I will find out then when I will be allowed to drive a standard transmission automobile and return to work. My time off would have been far more enjoyable with two good arms. We’d have fewer boxes that need unpacked, a tidier garage. The cars would’ve both been washed. I could have resumed strength training.


Later on, I found myself wondering whether my parents loved me as much as I love my son. As a parent I am finding that much of my own infant amnesia reversed as I interact with my little boy. As I see him experience and explore life’s events and his environment, I am able to recall my own similar experiences.

After physical therapy, I drove out to the strip mall to see the Stepford storefront our congregation is renting. Pretty cheap, at $550.00/month. It’s next door to an out of business pet-store that I always reckoned was a front for a drug-dealer’s business. On the other side is my favorite scratch-and-dent discount grocery store. Looks like a little further down, a tattoo parlor has opened. We will certainly be ministering at ground-level, an excellent opportunity for our congregation to speak real Gospel into real-life (as opposed to country-clubland) Stepford.

Adrian, Bill-Jack, and Josh were preparing the facility.  I regretted I couldn’t help out because of my shoulder.

Lists & Errands

Because I will get nothing done if I don’t make “To Do” lists of things to get done while recovering from surgery, I have been scrounging junk-mail envelopes for requisite stationery.  Because my doctor has cleared me to drive an automobile with automatic transmission, I have been running some errands today.

Dropped Seventy-Six off at the sitter’s, Miss Bee’s, house.  Dropped Caution-Lady off at school.  Mailed stuff.  Paid a bill in person.  Dropped off some paperwork at the tax accountant’s.  Got a tire repaired.  Got gasoline.  Shopped, briefly, at Stepford’s premiere furniture store for a kitchen island that rolls – their best price:  $480.00.  I may try a builder’s salvage, instead, or Big Lots.

While waiting for the tire repair, I spent awhile in conversation with two older men.  The one who looked older, it turned out, was about 11 years younger than the other man – they were 75 and about 86, respectively.  Both had worked in law enforcement – Air Force, the younger man; Marine Corps, the elder.

I enjoyed listening to them exchange stories about getting into trouble for doing their jobs.  The elder was transferred after arresting and jailing a drunk driver who was also a Lebanon city judge.  He said that of all the jobs he’d ever held, he like police work the best, but “politics” often made it difficult to do the work.  The younger man said that while stationed at Columbus, Ohio, were he served as a military police sergeant.  He said a black man, not an officer, came in to the officer’s club and started fighting with anyone who challenged his right to be there.  Broke a captain’s arm, broke up furniture, grabbed women randomly making obscene suggestions as he did so.

“The Officer of the Day said, ‘Sergeant, take him down – any way you have to.’  I walked up to (the miscreant), put my hand on his shoulder, and told him, ‘You’re under arrest.’  He turned and hit me, and I slid 30 feet ending up under a table.  I didn’t have a stick with me.  I didn’t usually carry a stick.  I went up to him and took my .45 and (struck him over the right eye, at the temple), and he dropped.  Can you believe it, the NAACP got on to me for that,” the old gentleman said.  He expressed disgust that in military, law enforcement, and civil government, “In the upper echelons, they’re scared of their own shadow.”  The man he struck, he said, was at some later time arrested for murder.

He went on to talk about how he had been issued the sidearm, manufactured by Ithica.  He talked about the M-2 he’d been issued, but stated he was not allowed to keep that firearm after discharge, and had to trade it for an M-1, instead.  He said his .45 had been borrowed and never returned by a relative.

We talked about pistols we have owned.  He talked about having a Russian-made 9mm pistol of the sort used by the KGB.  Said it was accurate and reliable, but he found the slide too “stiff.”  He said, “I walked up on a bunch of buzzards that had taken down one of my cows that was calving – I shot and killed two of them (with the 9mm pistol).

I have some other things to get done today before it’s time pick up Caution-Lady and Seventy-Six.

Fall is in the air.  I can smell a change, sunlight has begun to fall at a different angle, days are getting shorter, and some leaves are falling.