Today would have been my father's 106th birthday. He was born in 1899 so you might expect me to be about 80 years old. Actually, I was the child of a mother and father with a 28 year age difference. Now it is fashionable to have an older parent. Back when I was coming up, it was not. One good thing about having a father who was the youngest of all his siblings was that there were lots of interesting stories shared about all my older aunts and uncles and grandparents. My paternal grandmother was born during the Civil War and she died in 1901. Daddy was raised by his sister, my beloved Aunt Belle who was born in 1888 and a real character. I grew up around old people.
I didn't have to go back very far to get right into the thick of American history. In recent years, I found that my paternal great grandmother and Lucille Ball's maternal great grandmother were sisters. Dang! Wish I had know about Cousin Lucy in high school. Instead, the only famous relative I knew of was great-great aunt Betsy Ross, on my mother's side. Mother was very proud of the Betsy Ross connection. I am far more tickled to be related to Lucy. (Mother is surely glaring down at me for that comment.)
Today is the start of hurricane season. After taking four hits within six weeks from hurricanes last year, we Floridians are weather weary. We currently have a tax free purchase period wherein we can purchase hurricane supplies. I figure I can not only save $50 in sales tax but also insure that no hurricanes come within 50 miles of me personally if I just purchase a gas powered generator. $700 is pretty cheap hurricane insurance. I know if I sink money into a generator, no hurricane will dare to come near said power source until W4D has fouled it up and it no longer will crank. With luck, that will take W4D, my mechanical genius, about 6 months if we leave it boxed and don't have to actually use it. If we should need to use the generator, it will be good for one 3 day period until he breaks it. Still, insurance is insurance and I am debating buying one.
Speaking of my esteemed and talented DH, I just answered his cell phone, which he forgot to take with him this morning and absent mindedly left charging on the table in the kitchen. There is only one cell phone with that phone number and it belongs to DH (aka W4D).
I got up from the computer, whisked into the kitchen and flipped open the phone.
"Yes?" said I
"Hi, what are you doing?" asked DH.
"Nothing much," I answered.
No more time for niceties.
"Do you have my cell phone?" inquired DH.
Ginning large with a voice sweet as sugar I asked,
"What number did you dial?"
"I have spent the last 20 minutes looking for my cell phone.
How did you get it?"
I think the cell phone should become ransom for my missing mixer beaters.