Discontent

Winter hasn't officially started, so I suppose it would be premature to say that this is the winter of our discontent, but some how the 'late autumn of our discontent' doesn't sound quite right.

My daughter's convinced that she's not going to get a B in one class (at least one class), because she freezes on tests there. I've offered to help, but it's French, and as she likes to point out, I don't speak french.

My cousin is going to be buried next week. They can't prove that he was ever in the military; though we know he went to Marine boot camp, we don't know if he actually completed it. The Veteran's Administration says they can't tell if he was in the military unless we come up with discharge papers -- which would, of course, make the point moot. They still can't get into his apartment. And the hospitals cite privacy regulations as to why they can't tell us anything about how he died - despite us being his only surviving relatives.

Our lawyer is having difficulty getting with another one.

And my general dentist could not get one of the implant caps off, so I get to go back to the oral surgeon who put them on in the first place. I am hoping he didn't do damage to it in his efforts. God knows it physically hurt when he tried!

On the other hand, all of the cards are stamped and addressed, we had a dandy new recipe the other night -- chicken with peaches -- and I made a new cookie recipe -- butter pecan cookies with butterscotch chips -- that turned out well. And my daughter's offered to let me help her with Biology (though what that implies about her interim grade there, I don't want to contemplate.) And, I not only have a date scheduled to go to the house I did last year, and meet with the kids there, but I'll be going to a second house, too. Which tickles me all to death.

So, happy holidays!