Still working on them!
I’m hoping that a 6-hour plane flight (nonstop) will be sufficient incentive to get the remaining sets of interview questions done. If not, then the return flight of 5 hours should be further inspiration to get these done. It’s been distracting, delving through people’s diaries and looking at entries from a new angle, that of interviewer. I’m hoping I do a decent job for people though.
Well, Aunt Artist and Uncle Oregon did make it to our place to visit after all. I was informed my car smelled like a barn. I was also informed that they had a friend with a Geo that got 50 miles per gallon. I did win the “how many pills do you take in a day” competition, which Aunt Artist started before we even got out of the parking lot at the train station, but only by the margin of a single pill. By the time we’d gotten back to the apartment (five minutes away), they had won the cutest cats contest, the most snow contest and the worst airline flight ever contest; I think the string of three successive wins mollified Aunt a bit over losing the pills competition.
They did like the vegetarian restaurant we took them to, though they complained that there was nothing nearly as good around where they lived. Much of the evening was spent taking potshots at one of the other aunt’s husbands (who really does sound like he belongs in the running for Most Insensitive Rich Clod). Aunt Artist is intelligent and witty, and I pray to whatever deities bother to listen to me that she doesn’t talk about me behind my back the way she talks about everyone else behind their backs. I played it safe and let The Socialist carry conversation with them. That should give them more ammunition on him and less on me when they return to Oregon.
Speaking of mocking people when they aren’t around to defend themselves … I once again have reason for feeling guilty at making fun of the Minion. I asked him this morning if he knew of a good taxi company in our area. But this is putting things out of chronological order…
The Socialist and I decided that the best way to get downtown would be by train. There’s a train station about five minutes from our house. Not quite within walking distance, but very convenient none-the-less. The trick is how to get from the apartment to the train station. Neither one of us wanted to leave our car at the station, nor did we want to walk, especially in this weather, and with luggage. We decided that we’d use a taxi to go to a fro. This all led up to me asking The Minion this morning if he knew of a good taxi service in our area (The Minion lives scant blocks from me.)
The Minion suggested instead that we leave the car at the train station, leave a set of keys with the cat food, and after his daughter (who is cat sitting for us) fed the cats on Friday, he’d go over and drive my car to his garage. He’d then drive it back to the train station on Sunday, before we got home.
Sometimes the Minion is a nice guy.
Valentine’s Day is going to be very strange this year. The service and internment will be early afternoon Saturday. I have no idea if there is going to be any kind of reception afterwards. I can’t even find out whether to send flowers or if a memorial contribution is requested. This is in many regards the strangest funeral I’ve ever been to (not that I’ve gone to that many). I’m guessing that we’ll have dinner Saturday with The Socialist’s grandfather, The Colonel, but I don’t even know that for sure. The Socialist and I are both taking only a carry-on bag, but not knowing what we’ll be doing is going to make packing challenging.
I would have liked to take The Socialist out to dinner at a restaurant in Orange that he introduced me to, and that both of us enjoy very much. Without a car, and considering all the other events of the day though, it probably isn’t going to happen. I think I’m just going to have to give him an I.O.U. for Valentine’s Day.