DONE in Postcards 4

Feb. 16, 2019, 9:05 p.m.
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Public

2019 Tax papers. Behind in that basket are the extra recycled papers that came with everything.

• I’ve been reading other friends blog rolls while G coughs. Yes, he hacking, moaning, and groaning far, far less than he was yesterday. I have hopes that this won’t be a six week long course of the disease. He has not regained his appetite, but he does have a fragment of humor showing here and there. Blog rolls are wonderful things to keep sick husbands at bay. They are wonderful new worlds even if they don’t fully catch one’s attention.
• Taxes. Our new accountant isn’t quite as modern as the last two. He is a replacement for the Chi-Chi, snooty company that bought out our favorite accountant’s clientele. The Big company didn’t want little folks accounts, so they kept shoving us to the back of the stack until they had to file an emergency extension. We were not pleased. We are pleased with the new man. He charges about five hundred dollars less, and not an extension in sight. We shuffled tax stuff this grey and cold day.
• Saturday food stuffs. We often go out to breakfast at a local chain breakfast place, “The Broken Yolk,” Saturday mid morningish. It’s not that the food is Hotel Del quality, but we know the staff. Having a friendly place to start the day is always a good thing. But to have the prices reasonable is doubly good. Laughing at ourselves, we began eating off senior menus long before G reached senior status. Last week, somehow we ended up at Denny’s. They too have a senior menu. The food isn’t as good as “The Broken Yolk,” but the prices are less. We the middle of trifecta of Denny’s, and we rarely eat at any of them.
• Did I ever mention how much I have tired of cooking.
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Himself: Ran the adding machine. Taxes are done.

Myself: Opened everything, made piles, and handed them to the adding machine man.

Photo: G

Reading: Imagine, I am in between.

Gratitude’s: That G is actually getting better.