Penny picked them out -- a dozen white roses -- and the florist wrapped them in two six-stem bundles so each of the kids could bring me one. They're beautiful.
And so are the flowers.
After I'd put the roses in a vase, Penny scavenged the ribbons they'd been wrapped with. From the white one, she made me a "crown" -- a headband, basically, that she decorated with some crystal-looking, rainbow-colored, flower-shaped stickers. Wearing it made me look like a flower child reject from the 60s.
Not sure if there'll be a post tomorrow; Penny has the day off from school for a teacher workday, and she'll be with me in the morning, when I usually write these. We'll see, but I make no promises.
My dad isn't much for actual correspondence, but he likes to send me funny emails. The two he sent me last night were actually funny enough to make me giggle out loud, so I'm sharing one of them:
I recently picked a new primary care doctor. After two visits and exhaustive lab tests, he said I was doing 'fairly well' for my age. (I just turned sixty-something.)
A little concerned about that comment, I couldn't resist asking him, "Do you think I'll live to be 80?"
He asked, "Do you smoke tobacco, or drink beer, wine or hard liquor?"
"Oh no," I replied. "I'm not doing drugs, either!"
Then he asked, "Do you eat rib-eye steaks and barbecued ribs?"
I said, "Not much... my former doctor said that all red meat is very unhealthy!"
"Do you spend a lot of time in the sun, like playing golf, boating, sailing, hiking, or bicycling?"
"No, I don't," I said.
He asked, "Do you gamble, drive fast cars, or have lots of sex?"
"No," I said.
He looked at me and said, "Then, why do you even give a shit?"