Finally spoken

In reasons that I will describe later, people were prevented from talking at the funeral ceremony by my bastard uncle. None of the grandchildren nor the rest of the family was able to give final talks.
So I am now only able to make public in this format what should have been said at a private ceremony to family.


The Latin phrase "Carpe Diem", or seize the day originated in a series of poems by the Roman Poet Horace in the year 65 B.C., in which he writes,
"Scale your long hopes to a short period,
While we speak, time is envious
and is running away from us.
Seize the Day."

We should not sit and mourn here too long, but instead, celebrate life. in honor of vavo's (grandma) life, and life in it's entirety, please allow me to read a poem written for today.

"Seize Your Day"

Seize your day,
For Your future is not set.
You have God's greatest gift,
Of life and free will.

Do not let your will get dull,
For dust may be your fate,
but not that of your soul.

A well planned man may live for many a year,
But it will be the one who's heart beats fastest,
that Earns his envy.

it does not take much,
A smile, a laugh, or your child's touch,
To make even the poorest of God's men,
feel a brush of the divine.

Yet we all seem to race,
Against a foe we cannot win.
We schedule and we pace,
Against a clock that has no mercy or grace.

So I say unto you,
Seize your day.
Do NOT go weary into your slumber.
DO today what tomorrow may go asunder.

Love stronger and laugh louder,
embrace tighter and whisper softer,
Live fuller, but be gracious and humble,
For when you stand before Him,
In judgement your may say,
Thank you...For I seized my day.

Week 2 so far

Well, so far this week has been calming and relaxing. I worked Tues and Weds, and on Weds night we went out to Frashers in Scottsdale for a nice dinner. We all had the dinner special, grilled Ono tuna with greens and a citrus cream sauce and our choice of sides. We all opted for creme brulee for dessert. Its a really nice restaurant that is dirt cheap for what you get, plus the atmosphere is relaxing. We ate in the dining room, but they also have a lounge and a bar area. So far all the times I've eaten there, I've been very happy.

This morning we all woke up, and since I had the day off, we headed out for the day. While we were out, we had the option to pass by a apartment building listing for sale. Wasn't worth it. In fact, it was in a area I was sent to before, so once I arrived I knew that it was no good. I'd rather not go to a building I own to check up on it and have to bring a sidearm.

We left the building and headed over to the Phoenix Art Museum for a few hours. It was a good time and we all saw a lot of good pieces there. Their monthly special gallery was cowboy art, and a few of them were so greatly painted that it was surreal. You expected to step into the painting. Dad really liked those. We went through the abstract, classical, fabrics, sculpture and mixed media sections for a few hours before making a pit stop in the gift shop to browse. I picked up my annual Christmas ornament for this year there, along with a pair of "Buddha Boards". Best way I can describe it, its a slate board with a strange finish on it. They give you a calligraphy brush to dip in water, then you make brush strokes on the board. The wet areas turn dark and stay there for about 5 minutes before it dries away, supposedly leaving you and the board with a clean slate. I got one for me and one for a undetermined gift.

We got out of there about 2 and headed over to the Chinese grocery store to pick up dinner and some other items. I love this store. Its dirt cheap, with good quality items. The downside of it is that its 16 miles away from home. We ended up getting 3 mackerels, 2 packs of whole sardines, 2 packs of whole mussels, some spices, taro root, shallots, chilis, fresh rolls and one whole large red snapper. We had the snapper, baked Portuguese style for dinner. It was tasty, but the fish was a bit mushy. Its the breed of fish. Usually we use a rockfish or other firm fish, but this one looked good, so we tried it out. No matter, we ate it anyways.

After dinner, Dad watched his Thursday wrestling and I made a banana bread and a pumpkin bread. While they were in the oven, I tackled updating my desktop computer. I never use the thing hardly since I have this laptop, so it keeps out of date. Two hours later, its done.

My folks made a few points today. Its true what they say, that as you get older, you don't have much time for bullshit, so you say whats on your mind. So far I've gotten out of them that I need to hurry up and try to move home, that I should get a better job, that I need to be even more careful with my money than I already am, and that tonight especially-I need to lose weight because I have a little belly. Thanks guys, and yes, I know. I've gained about 15 lbs and I have a little belly. I'm also self-conscious about it and unfortunately unmotivated to do anything about it. I just can't get in the mood. That goes with a lot of things though. Generally unmotivated. That currently sums it up.

Anyways, manana is another day, and another work day at that. Hope to make some cash.

Mom & Pop's week one

Apparently mom and pop found it necessary when they first arrived here last Sunday to try out the foosball table in the first 5 minutes. They ended in a tie. It's just funny to see two 70 yr olds dueling it out in a slow grudge match for foosball supremacy. It's been a mixed week so far of randomly shifting weather and social outings. They arrived to a 70 degree cow front only to have it go back up to 98 degrees four days later. Dad does what he does best in working religiously in the yard to surpass my standards in lieu of his own, walking jenny once or twice a day, napping on the couch and making sure to watch his wrestling. Mom uses me as a outlet to get out of the house when time permits and go shopping or go out to see or do something with cultural value.

I ended up taking them to a Broadway show at ASU last Thursday. We saw The Rat Pack, a touring impersonation song and comedy show based on Sinatra, Sammy Davis and Dean Martin. It was a very good show and the actors sang, danced and acted exactly like the original artists. Dad really liked it, which is funny because he is always...ALWAYS pessimistic about going and doing anything outside his safety bubble, but as always, he finds himself really enjoying himself. Such a hypocrite at times.

I had asked off the weekend at work to have a good family dinner and possibly to head out of town, but the trip fell through. Saturday I made a roasted turkey, green bean casserole, stuffing and pumpkin pie. A early preemptive thanksgiving if you will seeing that I never make it home for turkey day any longer. I invited some people over, but only my buddy Chris and my cousin Chris were able to make it over. It was good to have my cousin over and let him have family time. Since he moved out here for school he has been very homesick and in need of release. After a long dinner and talking, Both Chris' and I decided to give him that release he needed and walked up to the bar. We chatted and laughed for hours and even gave an impromptu karaoke singfest via the jukebox at fox & hound before i decided to get my cousin out before the bar did. Captain stumbles however was...how can I say...unable to walk without support. Hello shopping cart. My cousin had his own personal taxi service back to the house. Dragging him inside was another daunting task. Trying to guide and carry a 6'4" boy inside to pass out was near impossible. He made it to the bedroom floor where he passed out cradling a bucket. I stayed up to watch over and make sure he passed out alright. The boy had fun and he thanked me, but it may be a while before he can hang with the big boys. I'll give him advanced training the next few sessions.

Sunday was a nice long, lazy hungover couch day. Leftovers for dinner and a early bedtime.

Today dad and I decided to excavate the recently dead 13 ft palm tree in the front. Two men, sharp instrumental tools, a chain saw, brute strength and an hour and a half later, we had palm tree logs, a new hole dug and a new navel orange tree planted in the front. Dad is passed out now and will be for a few hours. It was good exercise, which I definitely feel is needed-twenty axe and pick axe blows and I'm sweating and panting in 90 degree heat. It was good bonding time too, and we got something done. I'm making slow cooked rib tips in homemade bbq sauce for dinner, which we will gobble up before dad has his wrestling on tonite.

We'll see what week two brings.

AWOL

Yes, I've been dissapeared for a while without posting. Haven't felt like writing much as of late.

California was good, and I may be headed back in a few weeks for a few days. Some things have shown development while others are stagnant. I'll hopefully will be posting some more insightful information here soon.

I hope everyone is well & I will see you all soon.

slacker ass

Yes, I know, I've been slacking on a lot of things. Mostly because my parents have been in town for the past week and a half, and will be here through my birthday on the 31st. The trip I wanted to take them on up to Prescott that weekend is off due to the nighttime lows being too cold for them to transition from 70+ degree nites here to 38 up there.

Plan 2 was to drive out with them to San Diego to visit with my Aunt and Uncle there on Sunday and fly back to work on my birthday Wednesday, but with pretty much the entire part of Southern California being a giant charcoal briquette and my Aunt now recovering from knee replacement surgery on last Monday, that is pretty much off too. It wouldn't be a good idea for Dad to be in a smoke inundated atmosphere having basically one lung, so I think they will crash here through for another week til the air and fires clear up and my Aunt is better suited for company.

Meantime, I'll try to plan a day trip or two to somewhere interesting, that isn't cold, or too hot, or requires a lot of walking about, and suits their interests on a relative budget for all...I'll do my best. I'll try to post whatever I can in somewhat a timely fashion, but lately, I'm enjoying spending time with them and am not too worried about dictating it all promptly on the computer. Anyways, to toss in a warm and fuzzy for you, here's Dad playing with Jenny.

Going back to California Part 1 & 2

I am finally able to get started on writing of my travels last week after getting re-situated in this foul stench-hole of a state upon my return. Basis premises of the trip-my mom was turning 70 and I wanted to throw a party for her and the rest of the family. The logistical problem-catering a 26 person party and transporting it 730 miles to San Fransisco within a 32 hour span and pull off a seamless party.
I had been prepping what I could the week before, making desserts, sides, marinading meats, packing and getting as much stuff ready as I could outside of cooking so all I really had to do was throw things on serving plates/chaffing dishes, serve and enjoy.
So, during a full work week of my regular job, I had taken on a daunting task. Friday was D-Day.
I worked a closing shift on Friday night. I took crystal's car to work because I had pre-packed the truck with everything-cooler,disassembled grill,chaffing dishes, mini-bar, tools, pans,dry foods, luggage and assorted necessities to throw this dam thing. I got off of work and headed home only having to throw the cold food in the cooler and then get out.
Snag number one-I get home and realized that I took the register keys home by accident. That led to a hastened packing, a 40 minute side trip back to work and added stress, which led to ...
Snag number two-forgotten items in the freezer, which were two key appetizers of salsa and cheese balls. I eventually remembered that I forgot them...about 400 miles into the trip as I was following a tomato truck, a onion truck and a pepper truck....salsa anyone??? Oh CRAP! I forgot the salsa!!!
So after being up for 36 hours, a 12 hour truck drive, 6 redbulls and assorted vitamins and stimulants, I pull into home to have to assemble a grill, set up the tables and THEN make more appetizers. Like some drunken, sleep deprived sailor, Doug and Crystal mention at my 36th hour of consciousness that we should go and get some grub. Quickest eats? Freggin chucks donuts of course! 9pm, glazed donut in hand, atop of Canada college's lookout point over the bay area, I knew I was home.
Next day, after a glorious 58 degree night sleep in my old bed, I woke up early to dad making breakfast. The smells of bacon, linguica and veggies invaded my nose with utter pleasure.
I grab 2 cups of coffee and start working in and around the house, prepping serving tables, bar set up, dining tables, chaffing dishes and start crock potting the ribs for their 5 hour delicious journey.
At 11, Doug, Crystal and I headed to get the cake and ice in Menlo Park. We stroll into a closed cold stone creamery to see we have 40 minutes to kill before opening. How convenient is that? In terms of Cafe Borrone is right across the street having frosted mochas calling me that is. 40 mins later, rich icy mocha goodness and one Madeleine cookie in my belly, we head back and pick up the ice cream cake. Head back, iced the beer and wine in the coolers and then started putting out apps and cooking.
BTW-the catered menu for 20-30 people.
mango salsa, goat cheese and nut balls with grilled onions, peppers and garlic on toasted baguettes, cheeses and veggies, 16 lbs of peel and eat shrimp, one case of chioppino style mussels, BBQ ribs, chipotle wings, cole slaw, pasta salad,mocha cheesecake and ice cream cake.
By 2, people started coming by and the festivities went into full swing. All I had to do now was grill wings and get tanked.
At this point I could breathe again and concentrate on having a good time. Well, the bottle of vino helped me relax too. We all ate, talked, laughed, drank, laughed more, celebrated Mom's day, drank, drank and drank. When we stopped drinking, well, we drank some more. Between myself, my uncle frank and my designated photographer Crystal, about 500 pictures of the day were taken.
Casualties of the day? About 2 cases of wine, 2 cases of beer, 5 bottles of hard booze. The staggering thing about it was about only 10 of the 26 people there drank. I definitely was one of them.
All the food except 5 lbs of shrimp and mussels was consumed. that would be for a leftover family dinner the next day.
After all was said and done, Doug, Crystal and I took a nostalgic, drunken walk up the block to my old elementary school and sat on the jungle gym talking. We followed that up with a walk across the street from there to my old park, Red Morton. The grassy hills aside of the soccer fields were converted into a skate park, so we climbed into one of the concrete bowls and laid there chatting until it was time to head back to our beds.
Next-part 2 Santa Cruz and why hangovers and roller coasters don't mix.

Mom and Dad during a happy birthday moment.

Unfixable regrets

In August of 1994 I thought I was starting to get a grip on my own Independence. I had graduated high school a month earlier in June with hopes of going off to college on a swimming scholarship to where ever. I was to take the next six months off to train and work, which I did. I was accepted into multiple colleges across the nation and had narrowed it down to a handful;San Diego State, the University of Puget Sound in Washington, LSU and on the advice from my swim coach, Arizona State, where she graduated from and was on their swim team. I decided on ASU. I don't regret it. Something was destined for me to be there. However, what helped me choose ASU rather than a school directly on the west coast was that it was far enough from my parents that they couldn't directly keep tabs on me. It was most kid's thoughts during high school to rebel against their parents. I was no different. The only time I associated with them was either at the dinner table in one word answers to their questions or rants or in brief conversations during lunchtime when I'd come home for lunch hour during school. The rest of the time I escaped off to my room, or go on aimless drives to nowhere, work, hanging with friends, or to occupy my time twice daily for 2-3 hours a session training in the pool. I hated my parents. They were so "out of the loop", old and always on my case so i thought.

So ASU was to be a godsend for me to establish my freedom. I think that Dad had sensed this upcoming rebellion, so before I was to leave to college in January after my 6 months of training, he wanted to take me to the Azores, a series of tiny islands off Portugal where he and his family and 13 brothers and sisters were born,raised and immigrated from. I thought the trip was going to be lame, and I made it a point to myself to want to isolate myself as much as possible from them on the trip. That was exactly what I did at 17 years old.

He tried as best as he could to show and tell me things from his past there to me, and I'm sure he was very informative, but I chose not to listen. When we walked around, I'd walk 20 feet in front of him and Mom. When they wanted to go out, I stayed in our hotel room and listened to my walkman. Didn't matter how high up I turned the volume, I could still hear the nightly celebrations form the local festivals in the town square up the road, where my parents decided to go to after I shot them down. I was so angry of the fact that my father dragged me 9000 miles on a family trip. In my mind, my parents were lame to do that to me.

Even tragedy couldn't bring me to be with my family on that trip. 3 days into it, a cousin of my Dad, who still lived in my family's town, had a stroke and died no sooner than 12 hours after visiting their home. In the old world customs and lack of embalming, the funeral was to be the next day in the local cemetery a block from the hotel. My parents would go, and even though I had met the woman and she treated me nicely, I refused to meet with my parents at the funeral. It was a disrespectful and immature move, but I didn't care.

Towards the end of the trip, I could tell (nowdays) that day was getting frustrated, depressed and angry with me, but I didn't care.

I just didn't care, not one bit. I just wanted to go home, back to my training, my friends, my world.

Come January at ASU, I missed the chance to get on the swim team. My training was gone for nothing. My friends weren't there either. In fact, my world wasn't my world anymore. I was a solo stranger embarking on a trip with no guidance now. The only shred of the reality I knew of came in the form of a phone call from back home 3 days after arrival in Arizona. It was from my parents. They had called me after the only message I gave them of my arrival came in the form of a quick voicemail call of a few sentences, "I made it here, I'm settling in, things are good, talk to you later."

I only talked to Mom on the phone call they made. Dad couldn't talk. He was too busy crying on the other line.

To this day I have yet to see him cry. That phone call however forever changed my view of him from what I knew as a teenager. He was no longer the hard oppressing dictator I made him out to be. He was only a human, a man, a loving (if not expressing it) father.

The distance between us, and with me getting older has strengthened our bond. I've seen him fight and beat 4 cancers since then. However, seeing him only two to three times a year now takes his toll on me. He looks weaker, greyer, a little more frail every time, slower, older. 13 years ago he was in his late 50's and could still whip my ass. Now as he approaches 70, he aches to get up to take his 10 different pills for 10 different ailments.

I've been wanting to be more involved in and have been pursuing family issues more lately. Starting a family tree for example, or asking a lot of questions regarding our family's history. I feel guilty leaving to return to Phoenix after the holidays, and I feel bad that I'm not living closer to them now.

I want to return to Furnas, on the island of San Miguel, Azores, Portugal and know where I came from in earnest. Unfortunately, I know that my parents, especially my father will most likely never be able to make that journey again. I'd have to travel with other family members, which is fine, but not fair to what I did to dad. The hands on stories from him won't be there that only he would know. I couldn't share with him, walks down streets to see him gaze out in a memorable daydream of times past.

My regret, is that I denied my father to be exactly that...my father.

Part 3 continued

So we leave my Uncle's house to go and drop off my Grandma at my POS uncle's house back across the bay in Foster City.
Background first on why my Uncle is a POS. He's one of the youngest of my Grandma's 12 kids and has been adopted as the baby of the family, can never do wrong in their eyes, yadda,yadda, yadda. A snake oil salesman if you've ever seen one, the man could sell water to a fish and sand to a thirsty man in the desert and not feel bad about it at all.
He's screwed over members of my family in the past with botched business deals and lives a comfortable $30,000 millionaire lifestyle with his wife and kids, which I hope, will disown him and screw him over once they grow up, just as he's done.
The biggest kibosh he's done was right after Grandpa died. I mean RIGHT after, as in within hours. Grandpa had terminal cancer, and was given a timeframe to live without treatment at home hopped up on painkillers until the eventual day came. POS uncle finagled to be their caretaker of the estate after his death through whatever brainwashing he did. The day finally came and Grandpa passed. Hours after, once his body was removed from the house and with his brothers and sisters outside the house, he locked himself in the house and rifled through the house, claiming jewelry, what-nots, and raiding Grandpa's social security and private stash of around $50,000. Grandpa was old school, and kept his cash in a box, hidden in the garage, where he and his children knew where it was.
He volunteers to take care of Grandma and takes her in. At the funeral, he had her so hopped up on medication that she did not know where she was, let alone being able to say goodbye to her husband of over 65 years.
The house was sold, and it's belongings sold or donated.
My father and the rest of Grandpa's kids instructed my POS uncle to attend a family meeting to discuss the affairs of the estate. In reality they wanted to confront his behavior and the missing money. Everyone knew about the money and goings on in the house, but he played dumb, denying everything. They offered an admittance and be forgotten clause and everything would be good, but he still denied it.
He was officially disowned from the family. Some of us felt betrayal and hatred to him, others pitied his existence. He decided, without consulting the family to partially put Grandma in a community center during the day (effectively dumping responsibility) where she can whither away into senility. But he still takes her social security checks and uses them to pay "rent" for his mom to live in his house. He denies her phone access to talk to her children, and finally took away her house key so that she can't come and go as she pleases.
Anyways- back to Christmas Day.
We had told my POS uncle that we would go and drop her back home at 6pm. We showed up at 6:10pm to a house with all the cars there and lights on in the house. My father and I get out of the car and escort her to the front door. I say goodbye and go to wait at the car because I refuse to see my POS uncle's face ever again for fear of getting a assault charge on me.
I'm waiting at the car with Mom and my cousin Jen for a few minutes. Dad is pounding on the door by now with no answer. We've been waiting for over 5 minutes with nothing. Dad is furious. I'm not really scared of him being mad at my uncle, but more afraid of his stress affecting his heart. I yell out to them to come back to the car so we can figure out what to do. Grandma is sobbing heavily and speaking in Portuguese to what amounts to, "Why is my son doing this? Everyone will hate him, he doesn't love me to treat me this way."
Now we have to find his phone number through 3 different people and 2 cell phones. We get it and call a few times with no answer. We leave messages and then decide to leave and take her to my folks house. Minutes after we leave, he calls back saying that he just got back in and he has company over. After a broken discussion, he calls back again saying that he was in the backyard and we should have gone back there. Backyard huh? We checked, there was nobody there, and why the hell would you be hanging in the backyard on a cold December night? Idiot.
He tells us that he will pick up Grandma at 9 at my folks house. Great, now he's on my turf.
Dad and I are pissed. We get home and I grab a quick drink. Dad makes Grandma some homemade croquettes (basically crabcakes) to eat. We wait. I really don't want to be there when he comes, but where am I going to go? Can't drive because I've had a few drinks.
9 comes and he doesn't. He comes at his convenience at 9:30. I thought he'd just honk the horn and we'd escort Grandma out. No, he's too cocky for that. He strolls right up, rings the door, and comes in like nothing is wrong. Any other day of the year and Dad and I would have beat his ass. He knows that we won't do anything stupid on Christmas to ruin a holiday because we have some sense of morality, so he plays that card. I say nothing to him. Not even after he wishes everyone a Merry Christmas. He tries to make small talk, but I have to walk away. Grandma is ready to go and she isolates me in the hallway. I kiss her goodbye and give her a long hug. She's very old and frail, you can feel that in a person. In broken English she tells me that she is sorry and that she loves me. Pretty bad when your Grandma's only words you can understand is a broken apology. She leaves, Christmas is over as we go to bed.
The man likes to play games, controlling ones. His time, his way, his world. Its a sense of vengeance for his family shunning him as punishment for his behavior. He's had plenty of chances and second chances to amend his ways, but he chooses not to. We know that he will behave this way around the holidays just to make our celebrations miserable. It's sad, but we put up with it to see our Grandma. Some of the family wish to not deal with it any longer, some wish to make a stand and some just ignore the problem.
Some may question why I am airing out my family's dirty laundry in a public format. Why is it wrong? Am I afraid that I may tarnish his good name and show people the type of person he really is? I'm sorry. Fuck him. My statement still stands that if I ever see him in a normal setting, I'll deck his fucking ass. You do NOT treat family the way he has. He's disgraced the family name enough as it is on his own. That's why he is my Piece Of Shit Uncle.

Gulliver's travels part 2

Yes, I am the Lobster whisperer, as well as their executioner. After the airport fiasco, I had a good home dinner with the 'rents and then a good night's sleep. Next day, Christmas Eve. I get up and have breakfast. The parents head off to church to sing in their first mass of 3 in the next 24 hours. While they are gone, I take the car off to Foster City and head to 99 Ranch Market to get fresh seafood for dinner as per the 'rent's request. I pick up 2 large crabs, 2 lobsters and one large red cod fish for a few days later.

I get back just as the folks do and we start prepping the meal, making a crab boil and giving the crustaceans their last rites. While the water boils, I wrap gifts. Then its on. To ease the suffering, I put the critters to "sleep" beforehand. resting them on their heads or backs will knock em out so they don't squirm. Them things tasted pretty good.

After an early dinner, we got ready and then headed out for the night. My folks went to their night mass and I headed over to my Godfather's house to meet up with the rest of the family for good times.

I show up and everyone is still in the middle of dinner. They are eating late this year. i crack a beer and take makeshift seat at the end on the table and hang out with my youngest cuz, Noel. Typical spoiled 4 yr old. Me, me, me,me...he'll whine until you sit on him. Which is what I did to shut him up. Good kid though, just wanted to have fun. Dinner dissolves and everyone spreads out around the house. I make the rounds of chit chat, the rounds of beer, port, and espressos. We start exchanging gifts and I start to feel weird. There is a strange vibe this year. It truly did not feel like Christmas. Nobody was as festive as they usually are. People are quiet, definitely sober and out of it. Its almost like people are there because they HAVE to be, not because they want to be. Its wrong. A lot of things happened to family members this year for the worst, so a festive spirit was lacking, and that definitely added to the vibe. Well, we made the best of it, and I called it an early nite, and left with my folks after they showed up there after mass.

We headed home and had our private Christmas. We assaulted the chocolate horn o' plenty that my folks won at the casino in November. Damn thing is huge. My folks are still eating it, and will be for another month.

I head to bed and send out a text to everyone saying Merry Christmas. Funny how you learn who is close to you by who responds and who doesn't, and those that actually question why you even texted them in the first place. Just adds to the strange Christmas.

My dad's dumb luck.

Sadly, my folks departed today to head back to Cali. They'll spend a day or two at my aunt's beach house in Oceanside before heading back to the cold, frigid tundra of SF that they hate to return to.

I swear, my Dad has the Midas touch. Or at least its uncanny dumb luck. On the way here to AZ, they had a free room in a casino in Palm Springs. They crashed there and played for 2 days. Dad leaves there with $5800 that he won off a nickel slot machine. That's a lot of fucking nickels. Not that I'd mind. It I'd won that much, I'd happily sit on my ass for 2 days straight rolling rolls of nickels. He should be happy that they don't actually give out the coins any longer. All he had to do was cash in a slip of paper.

Anyways, last Thursday we decide to head out to Gila River casino here in AZ. I invite my ex to join the fray since she's not doing anything. At the very least it was good company to have since I don't gamble. I'll just sit at the bar and enjoy cocktails. We were there about 2 hours. I lose $50 playing nickels and I'm done and pissed. Dad is playing away on a machine when I mention that we should all go soon. Mom is losing and is getting tired. Dad says to wait 5 minutes. He has 250 credits on his machine after starting with 100. We hang tight for a few and then come back to see what he's up to. He's up to 750 credits. That's cool. He either wants to get to 800 or down to 700. He gets to 704 before calling it quits. Hey, 700 quarters isn't bad. But wait! He and I are fooled! We think that he's playing a quarter machine, but when he gets his slip printed, turns out her was playing on a dollar machine. Jackass!!!! Dumb ignorant luck I tell you. He just gets $700 bucks. We laugh all the way home.

It was very pleasant to have them here for a bit. I would have liked them to stay longer, but Dad is Dad and when he wants to leave, its time to go.

We got a lot accomplished while he was here outside of spending quality time with the rents. We fixed the drip system, renovated the front yard a little, patched some walls up in the garage, looked at some income properties, met up with Rita our realtor, and even put a conditional bid on a property (which fell apart when the owners wouldn't negotiate).

Had dinner every night with each other, enjoyed the beautiful weather and each other. Seeing what they both went through in the past 2 months, they looked really good. Mom had moments of weakness, but it was just her being tired. I could tell she was happy. Jenny got spoiled rotten by them, and I have to admit, so did I. I was in a better mood all week, eager to get home and hang with them, and saddened to see them leave this morning.