December 21, 2016

My alarm went off at four-thirty this morning so I could give my father a wake-up call for my mother’s surgery. Although the hotel could have provided this service, my father wanted me to do it. When he answered, he said that he had been awake for hours, and that he had already showered and dressed. I suspect that he tortured my mother from the moment he woke, reminding her of their departure time, and asking what he can do for her to ensure to ensure they leave on time. I hung up, read my email, and did Sudoku until I was tired enough to go back to sleep.

​Today, is my 52nd birthday. My dog Addison gave me the gift of poo: diarrhea all over the cabin floor. Just what I wanted. How did she know? I have no way of constraining the dogs inside BOB, so they tend to wander between their beds on either side of mine and the dinette or ottoman in the main cabin. I heard her nails clicking on the floor after I called my father, but I didn't think anything of it. I should have. I have now learned the hard way that a 20 pound dog should not eat most of a star fruit – no matter how much she likes it, even if it is small. I cleaned up the mess, made coffee, did my ablutions, and took the dogs for a walk. Addison had more diarrhea, so I had to return to the scene of the slime with a bucket of water to wash it away. I drank my coffee, had a protein shake, and went to the nine o'clock septuagenarian stretching class, as one does at age 52.

I got to the class just as it started. I had my own mat thanks to Amazon Prime. I grabbed a chair and found a place on the floor near the front of the room – not my preference since it's harder to follow along when I can't watch others. Fortunately, the routine was the same as Monday's so I knew what to expect.  During class, I deduced that Beverly had made the CD. I asked her about it after class, and she said she made it over 15 years ago. Beverly learned the routine from someone else, she’s been doing it for 25 years, and she plays the same routine for every class.

Afterwards, I went back to BOB, stopped by the mail room, and headed for the exercise room for a cardio workout. I took my jump rope with me hoping to be able to use it inside but the ceiling was too low. The exercise machines were old and didn't appeal to me, so I just lifted free weights and jumped rope on the pool deck. On the way back to BOB, a maintenance man suggested I top off my fresh water tank as a precaution in case the water main blew again. I thanked him, and decided to bathe the dogs and do the laundry while the water was still flowing.

My father called in the afternoon to report that mother's surgery had gone well. Because eating is one of my father’s hobbies, he informed the surgeon that he and my mother had decided to postpone Christmas dinner until she had fully recovered. The surgeon offered that my mother could eat mashed potatoes on Christmas Day, and my father told her that my mother hates them. (Not eating is one of my mother’s hobbies.) My mother will be discharged either tomorrow or Friday – my mother's 78th birthday – and they'll drive home on Christmas Eve. My father gave me my mother’s room number, then he told me not to call her because she wants to sleep. Instead, he could have offered to call me from his phone when he visits her, but that would be easier for all of us – like requesting a wake-up call from the hotel.

Jean called me after five tonight. She said that she couldn't talk, but that the FedEx guy was at the park gate and couldn't get in to deliver the present she sent me for my birthday. I told her that I needed five minutes to get there via bike. I left my birthday bourbon to dilute, exited BOB, unlocked my bike, and road like a bat out of hell towards the gate. As I approached, both the UPS trucks and FedEx trucks were coming through the gate. I flagged down the FedEx guy. He said the packages were too heavy for me to carry on my bike, so he followed me. When we got to BOB he said they are from JET.com, and that they are probably food. He deposited the two heavy boxes on my folding table and drove away. Jean sent me 124 cans of CRACK: eight 12-packs of coconut, one 12-pack of apricot, one eight-pack of cantaloupe-pink grapefruit, and one eight-pack of blackberry-cucumber. It is probably the best birthday present anyone has ever given me! Jean is a good friend.

Vin Diesel was on FX tonight. Could the day have gone any better?