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** This is the famous commercial that Steve's partner Jimmy appeared in (I
haven't figured out which one is Jimmy, but his father is the lead raisin--and how many of
us can say that?)
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2 July 2006
I'm sure I have kennel cough. Don't talk to me about inter-species transfer being impossible. I say it's kennel cough, dammit. One of those coughs that start at your toes and rush up thru the lungs and out the mouth in one or two or many spasms of coughs. I'm sure Elmer gave it to me as his parting gift.
There's a frustrating thing about colds. You can feel absolutely miserable, but it's just a cold, silly so nobody is going to send you flowers or cards or wait on you hand and foot. You may have fluff in your lung and a feverish tongue and a thirst that's intense and a general sense that you haven't been sleeping in clover, but it's still just a cold, silly, and could you please put the dishes on the table, hon, like a good girl?
Your subtle moans and groans go unnoticed because it's just a cold, silly and there are people dying of plague and beriberi and I don't know what all and all you have is a cold, silly.
The kennel cough moved up into the nasal cavities this morning and my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton, hay and rags.
Here's a riddle for you: How can you tell Bev is sick? Answer: She doesn't feel like eating.
So, we are in Santa Barbara for Tom's annual birthday barbecue, which will take place on Sunday. We left home around 10:30 Friday, giving Sheila final instructions not to irritate the neighbors too much in our absence, and we drove to San Rafael to get my mother.
Ever the gracious hostess, she met us with a lovely lunch and then, after taking time to videotape the mama dove feeding her babies in her nest on the front porch (video to be posted when I get home), we hit the road for real.
It was an uneventful drive. I read Mitch Albom's Five People You Meet in Heaven while Walt drove as far as Gilroy and then when I finished the book, we stopped to buy cherries from a roadside stand, I took over the wheel of the car, and drove the rest of the way in to Santa Barbara.
We are spending our last 4th of July weekend here at Walt's sister's house. Next year she will be married and living in the house her future husband now owns and we will probably be at a motel somewhere. We will miss getting up in the morning, going out onto the deck and looking out over the long empty field that eventually leads to the ocean.
Of course, they plan to build a gazillion homes on the land in the next year, so even if Alice Nan didn't marry, that lovely morning activity will no longer be possible.
My mother woke up this morning, laughing about the adventure she and Walt had in the middle of the night. Apparently he got up to answer nature's call and on his way back from the bathroom, got turned around in the dark and ended up in my mother's room, where he tripped over a cedar chest and landed in her bed, on top of her.
"Walt, I didn't know you cared!" she is reported as having said.
Walt sister, laughing at the mental image, asked "now--are we going to keep this a secret among the four of us?" We decided that the opportunity to embarrass Walt for the rest of his life about the night he tried to climb into bed with his mother-in-law was just too good to pass up. (...and yes, video of my mother telling the story to Walt's brother, who arrived several hours later, will also be posted after I get home.)
My "kennel cough" continued to worsen throughout the day. Alice Nan, who had just returned from a trip to Denmark, swore by a certain kind of schnapps, which she said had cured her cold, so she brought out a bottle she and Joe had purchased at the duty free on the way home and encouraged us to take it all in one big swig.
Unfortunately, I failed to record the grimaces we all made as we tasted this vile concoction, which tasted, to me, like eating a perfumed cigarette. What's worse is that it didn't do a thing to help my cough.
In the late afternoon, we went up to the golf course where Tom and 7 others were playing a round of golf. Everybody, including Ned, Marta, and BooBoo sat at the 18th hold and waited for the golfers to arrive.
We ended the evening having pizza at Woodstocks in the student community of Isla Vista (where Jeri used to live when she attended UC Santa Barbara).
And then home to sleep. I feel like I have a slight fever, I'm coughing constantly, and so I am going to sleep in the car, with a blanket, a pillow, a box of tissues, and a bottle of water and hope for the best.
PHOTO OF THE DAY