So does everyone realize that my dad now has another blog where all the political stuff goes? I just went over there and noticed noone is commenting, which just seems WRONG, considering the amount of comments he was getting at 3oldmen.com. Go over and say hell, m’kay?
Note that when you’re on 3oldmen.com and you see a coffee cup, that means you can go read something at the other site.
My parents came up for Christmas. Here are some pictures. I made Shepherd’s Pie. It was EXCELLENT. I highly recommend it.
Happy Birthday to "my old man." But first, a song:
When I’m 64
When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now,
Will you still be sending me a Valentine,birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I’d been out ’till quarter to three,would you lock the door?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me when I’m sixty-four?
You’ll be older, too, and if you say the word, I could stay with you.
I could be handy, mending a fuse, when your lights have gone.
You can knit a sweater by the fireside, Sunday mornings, go for a ride.
Doing the garden, digging the weeds, who could ask for more?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m sixty four?
Every summer we can rent a cottage in the Isle of Wight if it’s not to dear.
We shall scrimp and save.
Ah, grandchildren on your knee: Vera, Chuck, and Dave.
Send me a postcard, drop me a line stating point of view.
Indicate precisely what you mean to say, yours sincerely wasting away.
Give me your answer, fill in a form, mine forever more.
Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m sixty four?
—
OK, no grandchildren, and instead of a cottage in the Isle of Wight, it’s a cabin in the North Georgia Mountains and a tiny urban getaway in Boston. Whatever the case, Happy Birthday Dad! Hope 64 is a grand year for you. 😀
The table the 3 Old Men built, inside the main room of the house they built, too! Here’s the lead-up.
Jack is this lovely child who is my dad’s best friend’s grandson. He’s been at my Thanksgiving every year since the divorce. When he grows up, he might just be Ryan Seacrest. The first year I showed up for Thanksgiving, I’d been separated for about 8 months, and even if that seems like a long time, it wasn’t. I was still shell-shocked. He walked right up to me and asked two questions: (1) Where is your husband? And (2) When are you going to have your babies? That was 3 years ago when he was probably 7. Now he’s more like 10, and his already excellent (albeit blunt) social skills have really gotten impressive.
First, when I see him, he says, “Hello, Abby,” then gives me a hug. A little bit later, one of his other brothers says that Olivia (a 2 year-old cousin) can’t be outside without an adult. I say, “I’m an adult. I’m OLD!” Jack says, “What are you, 23?” I say that I’m 36, and then he tells me that I look very young for 36 and that I’m aging well and that probably when I’m 40, I won’t look any older.”
Later, he chose to sit next to me at dinner, which is a compliment in itself. Afterwards, he’s eating his mom’s cake and suggests I try some. He suggests a couple of times. I say, “Jack, you never have to worry about me eating.” His response: “You? You’re a rail!”
Where does he get this stuff?! Does he KNOW I weighed myself yesterday, only to find I’m at an all time high? Man, he’s hilarious. At first, you think he’s full of it, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. His mom said that even in Kindergarten, he’d tell the teacher that she had a nice shirt on, and apparently the teacher told his mom that actually, she WAS wearing a very nice shirt that day. He doesn’t compliment and then ask for something. That gift will take him FAR!
Jack said that everyone had to write what they are thankful for on the back of their place card. I think maybe he and I were the only ones that did it. Here’s the front of my card:
Here’s the back.
Here’s what he wrote on the back of his.
