Yesterday was a long day of driving, visiting, then driving some more.
My two hospitalized friends are coming along nicely. My old high school pal may be going home on Tuesday after a 3 week stay. My neighbor, who had an aneurysm burst during surgery to correct 2 of her 5 aneurysms, is coming along really nicely considering the hell her brain has been through.
After the hospital, I drove through Mabel, MN to drop off some of my aunt's favorite hand soap (C.O. Bigelow's Lemon Hand Soap) and some old quilting magazines.
Then it was on to Decorah. My dad, who complains about never leaving the house but is out of the house far more than I ever get out, was, you guessed it, out on an errand with my brother. So, I ran down to see another dear old friend, who happens to be the sister of one of my blogging pals. We had coffee and visited for about an hour. As I was leaving, my friend is standing on her porch talking to me and starts letting rip some championship farts that actually echo off the house across the street. She was completely unphased, but I am still stunned by just the fact that we're comfortable enough with each other to do that. When did that happen? I guess when you know someone for for 37 years, its just a given. In my house, we have a farting double standard- when I toot, it is disgusting, when he toots, it is funny. *sigh*
So, anyway, I end up going out to my brother's to pick up up my dad, take him back home, visit for a while, clean some floors, visit some more and head out after a few hours. As I was getting ready to leave, my dad, who thinks I am dating said farting friend (I've never come out to him- very long story- but everyone else in the family knows), asks me if I am going to take my girlfriend out for dinner. I tell him again that she is just a friend and that it would be like dating my sister and she farts too much. He just sort of cocked his head at me, which was my sign to exit.