My sister gave birth to a beautiful baby boy yesterday. I was beginning to worry we weren't going to have any boy grandchildren in the family. Dad called me and was so excited.
"He's just beautiful," he said over the phone. "Your sister is fine."
My main concern was my sister. Despite being a doctor she is delicate and frail. Almost waif like.
George has developed a routine every morning. It reminds me of the crusty old tomcat that prowls our yards late in the evening every day. As soon as he gets off work in the morning, he heads south from LaGrange back to the valley. Mrs. Jones has him a big breakfast ready. Must be nice. Soon, he heads out to prowl his territory after eating.
"Pookie is getting out of county jail soon," George told me this morning.
"OH JOY!" is what I thought comically in my mind. "More debauchery for George."
George left my house to head to another neighborhood. A neighborhood known to be a place to hang out and sip the suds.