Good morning, all! I had strange dreams about The Brain last night, and wen I awaoke at 6 am, I figured enough was enough. I have to be at the Post Office with the last of my packages early and then I have a trek to Toyland, so I'll be the proverbial early bird.
I called my dad to check on him last night, and he sounded happy and not at all distressed as he had yesterday morning. My biggest concern, beyond my anger at Macbeth's making him feel impotent and humiliated, was that it would effect his health.
Given all that's going on in my family and assuming that my dad's health will prevent his being around next Christmas, this will probably be the last year I give the Macbeths a gift. I've assembled a tasteful and thoughtful gift of several musical trade magazines that will arrive periodically over the year, but I wanted them to have something to open this week, so I put together a package of issues of all the subscriptions they will receive, and I'll mail it this morning.
Now, if I just knew for certain I have a job after Dec. 31 . . .