Sunday December 4 from the car wash

Today was the story of how I used to call her crazy when she'd eat green onions straight from the garden. Dad would say, "She's not crazy, she's just a hillbilly from the ozarks, that's why she does it."

Then dad died and I supposedly still called her crazy during picnics.  I asked who was she talking about. She said my name. 

I do not remember it at all.

We had a picnic around 130pm at the college and I ate green onions. The sandwich had a weird sliced cheese with blue veins.  She said it was blue cheese. I don't think so, but I've had it now three times, so I am not having it again.

Richard got down a plastic Christmas tree in a cardboard box from the garage for her that is almost 60 years old. She said it was my tree. I am not that old, of course, and I know I will not sit beneath it oooooohing and ahhhhing like a child. 

I want to be a child again, though.

I said today was beautiful, 63° I said it was such a beautiful day, but she screamed at me three times that it had to be 68-72° to be a beautiful day with a dissertation every time, that I may 'think' it is a beautiful day, but I am wrong.

I am wrong now, more than I am right. She said I make Richard hate her more than he already hates her. Neither is true, but silence is my best policy nowadays. I need duct tape over my mouth, as it is hard to keep my mouth shut.

But, never stop writing, so I started this from Richard's phone. My phone is full. No room for a dot. 

🦝🐷🍭🛸🥜😋