Oldness and other peculiarities...

Do WE come with a warranty?
I’m thinking of buying a new Sewing Machine. After hours of comparing warranties, cost, etc., wondering if I should get the one I really liked with the 10 year warranty, or the practical one with the 25 year warranty...it suddenly occurred to me, I’ll most likely be DEAD in 25 years…. or at the very least, sitting in a nursing home, gumming my oatmeal and drooling old, bad, love songs (Johnny Angel, Johnny angel...drool, drool, drool), to no one in particular. I’m getting the one I like...with the ten year warranty...and hoping I’ll outlive it.


Male vs female...
Ron took Bandit to the Vet for a shot. Bandit made an impromptu “delivery” directly in front of the desk, to let the staff know he had arrived. We might as well do a fecal check while he’s here, the desk attendant suggested, thinking, I’m sure, if I have to clean that up it’s going to cost them a little extra...Things went well from there. Bandit vomited in the car on the way home, but that was pretty much expected , so upon their arrival, Ron wasn’t too upset. In fact, he seemed almost happy; rather proud of himself. He came in with his arms laden with goodies, including rawhide chews. “They can’t have rawhide,” I said. “It binds them up.” Incredulously, he replied (in a tone that suggested I had no sense at all), “Bandit has a tartar problem”. “Buy him a toothbrush,” I said. The vet said this brand was digestible. H-m-m-m-m, 5 bucks for 5ounces. “Was Dr. Rangi there?”, I asked. No, it was a female vet, and she was really nice. Oh...‘nuff said. The mystery of the lighter wallet and the snickering dog had just been solved.


To be continued...