Goodbye

This is Bill's daughter posting on his behalf.

Unfortunately this will be the last post on this blog, my father passed away on June 6th 2019.  He passed away peacefully in his sleep. You can read his obituary here.


Thank you for all of the joy that you have brought to my dad with your comments.

The futurey

I am informed that 50 percent of people with my medical comdition live two years.

Sick

The American Medical System needs serious work.  Gee what an original thought.  But as a reluctant consumer during the last two months, much on my mind. And its not nearly over.  My friends in Fance are aghast.

Video

To me, this is a captivating video.  I could watch it for hours.

https://vimeo.com/127256409

January

This has been a rocky month.  Not nearly as  bad as that being suffered by the thousands of federal workers put aside without pay, or worse.  But bad enough.

For the last three weeks, easily, I've had a hacking cough that sounds like I'm a two-pack-a-day smoker. It is slowly getting better, but glacially slowly.  Roughly, say, at the speed that a new thought penetrates Trump's consciousness.  Every morning I wake up thinking well, I didn't really cough last night, so maybe.... and then, thirty seconds into any conversation, I start coughing so badly, I have to hold my breath for a moment.  My wife has pointed out that she knows two people whose problem sounded like mine, and they turned out to have strep throat.  I don't think its that, but damned if I know what it is.  All I know is, I WANT IT TO END.  I've taken Mucinex, I've taken Dayquil.  Slowly better.  Still there.

And the other thing is money.  In a nutshell, when our French exchange student was here, she had problems with her debit card, so we loaned her money.  She said her father would do a bank transfer to our account. That hasn't happened. I like these people, and I don't want to think badly of them.  I don;t think they would stiff us.  The student....might, especially if she finds out that I wrote to her mother  a damming -with-faint-praise note about her American boyfriend.  I like him, but I know how her mother feels about any relationships with one specific guy.  Groups, no problem.  One alone, problem. I wrote the note as a way to say you might want to keep aware of this... especially since I know that the daughter lied about the relationship to her mother. So perhaps she intercepted the note where I said hey, about this money we loaned your daughter..... Or maybe its just that the mother doesn't tend to read email . Whatever,  I might just have to forget about that money.  The odd thing is, that would be okay, so long as we were still friends with these people..  I would hate to lose that.

In about two weeks, first cataract surgery.   Hoping for good results. 

The Return

Today, the French kid, who was here for only two weeks this time, returned to France.   We discovered two things:

First, she's really in love with the local guy that she met last year.  Like, really.

Second, that the local guy's mother is telling him slow down, take your time,  think about the logistics, think about where you see this relatiionship in two years.I like this woman.  

Okay, I'm still envious of the kid - and yes, I know how pathetic that souunds - and his advantages -- good looking, money in the family, and now a hyper-cute  if not downright sexy,  smart French girlfriend, too??? - but his mother's attitude counts for a lot.  Which is weird, because, hey, it's not my daughter heading into this.  But still - it does.  So I'm glad for her.

French people

You can support someone emotionally as much as you want, encourage them to change, nod and smile when they say yes, you're right, I need to hear this, I need to do this, I need to change.But when they don't act on it....  there is a point where compassion runs thin.

And when a different person asks you not to let her protective mother know that the guy she's seeing is more than a friend, it gets a little old, too.  Especially when it seems more of a problem to you than to the mother. You begin to wonder If the mother doesn't seem to care, why should I?

Stress

Okay, I'm feeling stressed.

My friend who is defending her doctoral thesis in Paris today said that she should know by 5PM or so, Paris time,  if she was awarded her doctorate.  5PM is 1700 hours.  1700 in France is 1100 here, or 11AM.  Its now 3 PM. Not a word. If she didn't get it, she'll be devastated.

Trump is destroying the ideals of my country, and normal people are supporting it.  Not just the bigots and racists, but normal people.  And there's not a fucking thing that I can do to stop it.  The GOP won't.  And the Democrats can't do squat until they are in office, in two months. I swear, I just want to get the hell out of this country.  Never thought I'd feel that way.  Never thought we'd be this stupid, this incompentant.

The girl who stayed with us last year confirms she is coming to this area in December. She says she will stop by our house  Not stay, but stop by. Because the reason for the visit is this guy she met while she was living here.

My French aural comprehension sucks.  My Italian comprehension is nonexistent. 

Makes me wish I drank.