RaisingDad

Have you seen the movie 1917 ?   I hear it’s good, but I haven’t seen it myself. It’s like Saving Private Ryan , except in it takes place during World War One, and there’s no girl with big... well, you know.    That horse lineament I bought that I told you about, it works pretty good. I didn’t put any on yesterday and today, and I can feel the difference. But that got me to wondering...    Does it help heal a bum knee or does it just numb the pain? If it just numbs the pain, then there’s really no point in using it. My knee hurts, but not always, and it isn’t a severe pain. Maybe better to just put up with the pain. Then again, no point in letting the plastic squeeze bottle go to waste.     My wife hurt her little toe, the one next to the big toe, and it’s been bothering her for over a month. It just wouldn’t heal. I started putting that horse lineament on it, and in a few days it was better, so who knows? Except for her whinnying, there doesn't s...

I was at jury duty  today.     I parked on the sixth level of the parking garage and decided to take the stairs down to the ground floor instead of the elevator.     From the ground floor you exit to the street and walk around the building to Liberty Hall where all the potential jurors gather. It was a cold morning and downtown always seems to be ten degrees colder than the rest of the city.     There was a long line to enter Liberty Hall, so I took my place at the end of it. One of the judges who is running for re-election was standing near the entrance handing out plastic water bottles with a picture of her and her two young boys on it. No husband. I guess she wasn’t married. She was making small talk with us as we walked past, telling some of us that if we don’t want to be picked to give long answers to any questions the lawyers may ask us and to ask a lot of questions in return.     “The lawyers don’t like that,” she said.     ...

as featured in Desert Exposure Magazine It's the same old story.      My father can't find his keys.      He's checked his room. The kitchen. The refrigerator. And he’s checked them again. Over and over. Many, many times.        "Somebody's gone into my room," he'll say.      "Nobody's gone into your room," I'll tell him.      "I know for a fact ,” he’ll insist.      "How do you know?" I’ll insist back.      "I just do," he'll say, and then he'll look right at me. "I don't know who, but someone's been in my room, and that someone took my keys."      I don't know why he singles me out when he’s saying that. Does he think it's me sneaking into his room absconding with keys I already have copies of?      My father is only two places...