Baker hope all is well with the family soonest. Meanwhile, all of you are in my thoughts and prayers.
So was I, if he was still alive two weeks from now. But since he went into hospice last week, I wasn’t exactly writing his name on my list in indelible ink.
ETA: I see that he’s still alive. Still not writing his name on my 2014 list in indelible ink.
Bite your tongue. That family has already caused me to revise my 2014 list once already.
Thank everyone for their good wishes. My dad spent the night in the hospital for observation, after chest pain and shortness of breath. He’s okay now.
All I can say is thank God for modern medicine. Dad lost his own father to a heart attack when Dad was just seven years old. He had his own first attack at almost exactly the same age as his father, and he has survived by over thirty years now. Bypass, angioplasty, and so on, who says God doesn’t make miracles?
But it does seem a little wierd to be running a Death Pool. What I can say to that is what Dad said when he had a code blue pulled on him on Easter Sunday. “If I had to die, what better day?” To him, death isn’t something to be feared.
:DNow, if I was a celebrity I’d be flattered to be on a list, and even to have people whoo-hooing when I passed. That would mean someone remembered me!
Again, thanks for the good wishes, I’m glad things didn’t take as long as I thought they would.
It might not be ours, but it’s definitely Harold Camping’s end of the world.
Glad things were not so bad, Baker. I know what you mean about modern medicine; I’m pretty sure my DH would not be here today without the magic of angioplasty and stents. Glad to know your Dad is going to thwart the Death Pool again.
And what do you mean, “if I was a celebrity.” You ARE a celebrity here.
Good to hear DD is doing better.
A unique pick for Allecher!
Glad your dad is better Oh deathmistress!
Well, cool. Harold Camping is finally seeing the end of the world. 
Too bad he didn’t take Phred Phelps with him.
Oh yes. I live in Topeka, where the Phelps clan has their home. Phred hasn’t been seen in a long time, there are rumors he IS dead, but I think perhaps that would bee too big of a secret to keep.
I take my dog to the local dog park. Another couple, the wife of which works in one of our hospitals, was acquainted with a Phelps granddaughter, who is now an RN. According to this woman the Phelps girl became an RN so the family would have someone in house, so to speak, to care for Phreddie. Rumors, I know, but plausible.
Their current message on the church compound sign says CHRISTMAS=PAGAN IDOLATRY! CHRISTMAS IS NOT IN THE BIBLE! GOD HATES CHRISTMAS!
Okay, now they’re just being a parody of themselves.
My Great Aunt Lexie, who was foully murdered, but I digress, held this theory when I was a pup.
“No one gave the Baby Jesus any presents.” She gave me a silver dollar from a safe and plastic dinosaurs. They were cool.
I began to respond something about the Three Kings, but Mama Plant shushed me, and explained later that Great Aunt Lexie listened to Crazy Radio Preachers.
Great Aunt Lexie had a female dog who tried to pee like her brother, and befouled her leg, but again, I digress.
Double points?
We went to dinner at a friend’s house the other day. He is an in-the-vein catholic and has spent hours building a Christmas diorama. Huge thing, takes up a corner of his living room. It’s basically supposed to be village around the manger. He’s got houses, roads, etc. and lots of figurines of people and animals.
All I could think of was how much I wished I had a little plastic T-Rex that I could slip into the diorama. Maybe have it eating a sheep or something.
Cool.
I want to set up a Nativity scene with penguins, but Mrs. Plant tells me that the neighbors would burn crosses on our lawn.
Try to work Star Wars action figures or plastic/tin soldiers into the scene as well.
No, because then folks will walk up and holler, “Little short for a storm trooper, ain’t you?”
One must have some respect.