We did an earthquake drill at work this morning, and I did groups with supporting psychoeducational videos on panic attacks, school shootings, and what constitutes adequate consent with regard to sexual relations.
She is Susan's pride and joy. I admit, I give her an awful lot of attention as well.
I took a nap after getting home from work, then Susan and I went to Crocus and had barbecue, hot dogs, scalloped potatoes, cowboy beans, and tossed salad at Bobo's with Alan and the Jones' clan. Afterward, Allan I played maybe eight or nine games of MTG. I won more than I lost.
It's late now -- 11:18 am, and I fixing to go to bed. Allan's got a lot on his mind about marital troubles and we talked some about it. I'd love to see him move back down here.
He says he's planning on being at the church shindig at the Polly Barn at 6pm tomorrow. I told him maybe we can get together and plan some more MTG during the day. I really need to either run or else do a strident stationary bike workout. Then, Allan plans on leaving sometime Sunday morning. They're anniversary is coming up in March, I think. I believe he will hold off on separation plans until April, 2020.
A little over a week ago, dad had his fifth heavenly birthday. Everybody dies. I understand that. It's the natural order. But I sure do miss our Saturday morning coffees and chit-chat. I miss talking guns, family genealogy, computers, religion, and other things with him. Dad could converse intelligently on a wide array of topics. He was well-read but also just a smart man. I'm thankful that he didn't linger for a long period while suffering. I hope that his faith and medication gave him comfort during those last few days he was alive in March, 2018. Dad had a stroke on or near March 13, 2018, and was gone three days later. He loved to read science-fiction, and was always giving me a book he'd just finished. He also liked to piddle around in his shop, a little fifteen by thirty prefab on concrete pillars. He did some gunsmithing, some reloading. A year or two before he really got bad, I helped him repair the small deck attached to that building, and he was proud as a peacock when we finished. I wish I'd hugged him and told him I love him more often. 
Below is one of the last -- perhaps the very last -- pictures of dad with all of us. I wish I knew exactly when the picture was made. The old truck pictured here belonged to a long-time neighbor and farmer. Dad had it for many years, and it has now gone to our preacher, who uses it for him own farming. I can remember many a time using that truck to haul one of dad's riding lawn mowers to Russell Springs for repair. It was loud and proud.
