ROBIEWANKENOBIE

Listen here bitches, this is a fucktabulous day. Dr. Monty (a bespectcled owl of a doctor...who will not bullshit you, but may smuggle you wine in the hospital) tells us we might have a year. A year! A year! So full of awesome that we sprang for Thai! Let me just tell you, nine months is everything when it comes to cramming in all the love and adventure you want to get to afore you croak. We'll have more tests (of course) before we can tell how accurate this timeline is. But today? We are allowing ourselves to feel a full measure of joy.

Speaking of love and joy? It is reap what you sow time down at the oldfoegywankenobie homestead. My brothers have committed to time when we need it so that we won't be going it alone, the quakers (as always) are there for non-cloying support, and my grandmother's hospice nurse from six or so years ago has signed on.

Meanwhile, my Dad is being showered with affection. People are calling in and stopping by the bookstore. One of the employees turned to him and remarked that he is lucky that he didn't die suddenly, that he gets to hear that he is loved by so many people.

So, folks, we're in a good place to start this journey. Hopefully this will buoy us through the hard parts. I want to give the old foegy a good send-off.