A Saturday In August 2024
8/25/24, 1:41:50 AM
My day started with thinking I have covid. :☹️
Negative!! Thankful it’s just crud: 🙂
I have a crud and overslept and missed FS: ☹️ (but probably just result of too little sleep and too much everything else)
My assistant was ready: 🙂
FINALLY got a repair done at ACH KH that’s been hanging over my head like the sound-system-of-Damocles for 11 months. 🙂
Order greasy spoon Hamburger as reward for a week of good eating 😀
got waylaid by a phone call from my better half ☹️
Jellybean crashed into someone, refuses to admit she did anything wrong. ☹️☹️☹️☹️
Calmed her down. 🙂🙂
Calmed lady (Janie) whom she hit. 🙂
Janie tells me her husband died in Feb. So I empathize and start asking questions. Turns out he fought heart disease for 10 years and died at 50. What a great opportunity to preach. Tell her I worry about making it to 60, but it doesn’t keep me up at night because of my hope for the future. I ask if she reads the Bible. ‘I try, but it’s so hard to understand.’ I explain that of the Bibles I use, the NWT is by far the easiest to read. I offer to have Jellybean reach out and get her a copy. I also explain, that many Bible subjects require studying to comprehend. Grab a tract from Jellybean. And she readily accepts and expresses appreciation. 🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂
When the policeman is done writing his report, Janie is very happy and pleasant as she drives away. Jellybean is a few hours from calming down, her cheeks are flushed and she is VERY frustrated. It is extremely hot this afternoon. I think MRL is dancing on her nerves as this all went down. ☹️☹️
We stop at QT to stand in the AC and get a cold drink. 😃
High on adrenaline and the conversation I just had, when I spot a lady trying to water something in a small ratchet-looking trailer (too small for a horse, but looks like a horse trailer). I shout ‘whatcha got in there, a giant goat!?’ She laughs and shouts back that it’s a small donkey. I approach and strike up a conversation. She has come from AR to rescue the little donkey who has been neglected. He won’t drink. I pet and try to sooth the pretty little creature and talk about how sad it is that people mistreat animals. I am angling to preach, but the moment never feels right. I go to get a some literature thinking that might be a good farewell. But opportunity not seized is opportunity missed. Jellybean has pulled away in her vehicle with the literature. 😀🤨
We stop and visit with SLW who is an insurance adjuster and he has some suggestions (don’t fight the claim, consider paying out of pocket to get the repair done considering the age of the Benz). He recommends a good shop to visit. 🙂
The girls go to get dressed for a party. 🙂🙂
I excuse myself and go for a drinking swim with SLW, where I call you mid-gut spill. Not sure if this is a smiley or sad-face. I think smiley. I think I’ve lost my capacity to be embarrassed with you. I trust you. Except for some areas. 🙂
Our conversation goes on for a couple of hours and he’s really opening up after I share a few things I’ve never told anyone. As he starts to traipse into his trauma and talk about what sounds like sexual abuse, Jellybean calls and needs rescue from MRL. :–( So I have to excuse myself and switch gears for a dance party.
Now I’m being like the life of the party since I’m quite well lubricated and feeling no pain, to quote a friend. A little beer would make these gathers vastly more tolerable.
Note to self: do not wear a Banana-shirt from Carolina beach if I ever decide to rob a bank. That thing is an attention magnet like few things I’ve ever worn.
Wrap the party at 9 and head home, Jellybean is now ready to party. So we head downtown to Pat Green concert.
We start by setting up our chairs outside the venue by campervan Beethoven and eating potato chips and dip. Once, we are snacked, we get tickets and go in where the party is.
He’s loud and brash. And very, very country. Modern country anyway. But not the pop-y sounding stuff on the radio. I guess I think of classic country as I saw it on hee-haw. Pat Green is more modern than that but not ultra-modern to compete with the likes of Taylor Swift.
There’s a 35 yo in front of me for as a fiddle but foul-mouthed as a sailor. In fact, now that I notice, nearly everyone is very attractive here. By standards in a small air force city, at least. Perhaps a younger crowd, more fitness oriented?
Final few songs are very chill and bass-heavy. It’s a welcome change from the bright and clashy-sounding early set. It feels like he’s found his heart in these later songs, which are likely his favorite.
MRL buys us stickers and goes on her phone. I wonder is she texting someone? Or editing photos? She is cute the way she tries to do the things I would want her to do. I wish she would just embrace the evening for herself and forget that I am part of the equation. But, that is her psyche for the time being. I have always been confident that once her mental capacity is corrected, she will truly come to appreciate Jellybean for her kindness and generosity. And she is generous.
I can tell that after one day, Jellybean realizes she bit off more that she cares to chew for a whole week. But, it will be good that she has to rise to the occasion consistently. I just hope she doesn’t smash the poor Benz again.
After Jellybean is enlivened by her coke and rum. Suddenly her trepidation and stress from the accident has melted away and she is ready to twirl and shout and love that we are out here tonight under the texas stars. And it is an amazing evening. After the grueling heat of the day, the night has opened to strong breezes that rustle the trees. If it was cooler, I would say it sounds like fall.
A perfect night for a summer concert. To be alive and out of doors.
After Jellybean compliments a young woman’s boots, (SHINEY boots ALWAYS elicit a remark) we meet a VERY loquacious, inebriated, and handsy lady and her husband (also very handsy and away more inebriated). We have a delightful conversation with them post-concert when they mention they run a dairy. We are newly enlighten raw-milk drinkers. Jellybean and MRL are interrogating this couple and we learn the name of their dairy, how they spell their last name, what brand of boots she wears, where they grew up, the fact that they have 4 children (6, 8, 10, 12). Good for her after 4 children, she still presents as a picture of health and vitality. The husband laments that the majority of his profit gets scraped away by a corporation that buys his product.
I am genuinely worried about him driving and express as much. He reassures me that he isn’t driving, that they are walking around down the block to a bar that’s open until 2. I don’t think this is any better, but he is unswayed and we part ways. I hope for their children’s sake they get home safely.
We do.