Neanderpundit

the post two or three down wasn’t enough, we’ve lost a sister-in-law. We’ll drive to the funeral thursday night and back on sunday. Decent person, too, too young, too bright, too many kids.

She’d had cancer and fought it, till the chemo and radiation left her sick, weak, and bald. The chemo wasn;’t working, apparently, so she decided to hell with it; I’ll spend my last days with my family without nausea and with my own hair, and in as much comfort as they can give me.

She leaves children old enough that they will be looking to her example in their own awakening adulthood, and she won’t be there. I know only those things I hear secondhand, but I know that nobody will celebrate her death.

She didn’t deserve to die, and the world is a colder place without her.

Woke up to a truck that wouldn’t unlock it’s driver’s door for all the tea, so i dismantled it and found the door latch irretrievably worn out, ended up driving it (door bungeed shut) to the dealership (thank God they were open) to get the replacement part (thank God they had one).

Stopped on my way home to get some new stainless screws to re-attach the door handle (no way I was gonna use the crappy poprivits) and found that a new Italian place has taken root next to the Sears.

They had a great selection of sandwiches and fresh food, and I bought a proscuitto, mortadella and genoa salami sandwich as well as some giant capers. I wanted some canoli but they were out. I got a little container of fresh baked ziti. I also bought one of these:

It’s a Moka expresso maker by Bialetti, and I’m drinking the first cup right now.

Good to be home.

I’ve had rough weeks, but good lord.

Saturday: Arrive in hinterlands to begin programming for customer runoff. Find equipment lacking, spend day and evening modifying equipment, set self on fire welding, strike forehead and cause self bleeding headwound. Sunday, finally, programming in preparation for a customer runoff. Fly home during super bowl. Sleep on plane ruined by pilot perpetually coming on intercom to inform uninterested passengers of score.
Monday: Drive 420 miles to bury uncle. Stand in pouring rain in Batesville, Indiana, watching Legion honor guard give 21 gun salute. (You guys rock. Spitshined boots, polished chrome helmets, crisp, pressed uniforms in the pouring rain, God love you and keep you. God put the day of your honor guard far in the future.) Cry. Watch the coffin lower into the vault, and the vault into the ground. Cry some more. Visit with family. Drive home. Sleep three hours.
Tuesday, fly back to hinterlands to continue programming, work into the wee hours of the morning. Repeat wednesday. Fail to finish. Call Big Boss to inform him of the impending failure of the project.
Thursday: Greet customer. Apologize to customer for being unprepared. Customer responds by informing me the criteria has changed, and gives me new programming criteria, at least four orders of magnitude less complex. Finish new programming in 3 hours. Friday: Sucessful runoff. Ruin diet by eating $23 worth of junk food in celebration. Wait four hours for delayed airplane. Land at Midway and wait for baggage, including damaged toolkit. Force my way into Exploder, whose electric door locks have ceased to function properly. Stop at Long John Silver’s for lent-friendly dinner. Back perfect-condition explorer into concrete parking block in lot, damaging bumper.

Home again, home again, jiggity jig.

My wife and daughter are happy to see me, but not as happy as I am to see them.