Love Among the Embers

    At Dinner in the old folks home, heard on the public address system:

RECREATION DIRECTOR: May I have your attention, please.  Milton wants to ask a question.
MILTON:  Eva, will you marry me?
RECREATION DIRECTOR: Eva said,  "Yes."
RESIDENTS: (Cheering but with a few cat-calls.)

   Eva and Milton, both in their eighties, who have both celebrated their golden wedding anniverseries with other spouses, will be married here at the home, and probably have their grandchildren as attendants. 
   They are moving today to adjoining rooms with a connecting door.  The date of the door unlocking has not yet been announced.

Merced, CA, Weather Report

                                        Rain

                                       (sigh)

What? No Hot-Cross Buns?

I flippantly call the residence where I live "The Old Folks Home" but its proper name is Park Merced Assisted Living Facility. 

On Easter, in order help the Park live up to its high falutin' name, Steve, the chef came up with the following superb menu.

BREAKFAST
Choice of hot or cold cereal
Choice of juice: apple, orange, tomato, prune
Choice of entree: cinnamon roll and bacon or Eggs Benedict garnished with fresh strawberry
Choice of beverage: coffee, tea, or milk

DINNER
Hors'doeuvres: deviled eggs (made to resemble happy faces with stuffed olive eyes)
Choice of salad: cottage cheese and pineapple, tossed green with choice of dressing, applesauce
Choice of entree: Baked Ham, sweet potatoes or mashed potatoes, or Cornish Game Hens with wild rice
Asparagus with Hollandaise Sauce.
Dessert: pudding

SUPPER
Grilled cheese sandwiches
Tomato soup
Dessert: Cookie

Sounds like the menu of Holland-American Liner.  In fact, once one of the elderly residents looked around the dining hall and asked "How many passengers do we have here?"  He thought we were on a luxury cruise. 
No wonder.

HAPPY EASTER

Whether your name is on the egg or not

How to Tell a Joke in an Old Folks Home

Answer:  Don't

The Joke:

Customer in coffee shop:  I'll have coffee without cream..
Waitress:  Sorry, Sir.  We're all out of cream.  You'll have to have it without milk.

The Response: (Laughter?  Well, no)  Silence.

Evaluation:  Maybe they've heard it before.  Or, maybe next time I remember an old joke, I'll bite my tongue before I tell it.

Photo Scavenger Hunt

   "Go out and take a new picture of anything you want, and we'll compare and see what subjects we come up with," Krissy suggested.

   Here's mine: clouds, on my shopping trip this morning. I brought back replacement scissors, replacement measuring cup, and clouds.

Book Review

   "I don't like this book," I said as I threw it down.  I surprised myself.  Everyone loves this book.  It is the commonly accepted celebration of old age.  It is filled with "heart warming tales" and poems about old folks, and is loved by everyone I talked to about it. 
   Except me.
   Never mind which book it is.  I know you love it, because everyone loves it.  I don't want to open myself to your scorn for my bad taste. 
   I don't want to celebrate my old age any more than I would celebrate the loose tooth in my mouth that wobbles and wiggles but won't fall out, and is too much trouble to go to the dentist and have pulled. It is an accouterment of old age, and not worth cheering. It is an evil that come of being "super-annuated".  I'm proud to be eighty, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.  It is better than the alternative, they say.  I'm not going to write a poem about it, nor am I going to read any more of them.
   I am an old person who likes to love, but spare me any stories of octogenarians in bed.  That's when I threw the book down.  I bought it, but I don't have to read it, thank you.