Thursday, the church had an ice cream social for over-the-hill types.  Every church tries to come up with a cute name for us.  The names aren't cute.  We're old.  You can't make that very cute.

I don't like ice cream--I know, everybody likes ice cream.  But I don't like milk, yogurt, etc.  So I need a bottle of hot fudge to pour over it to kill the taste of the milk-cream flavor.

I always re-read what I am writing and what I've said so far sounds like I'm a grouchy old coot.  Maybe I am?

What I should have said was, "Isn't it nice that the church plans something special for the old-timers!!  Even the grumpy don't-like-ice-cream ones.

I think I just have a case of "I'm tired of doctor's appointments."  Yesterday they wired me up with a cardio-halter.  I had to try and find a position to sleep last night that I wasn't lying on wires.  These tests are coming to an end soon.

Surgeon called yesterday.  Said they put a stent in my neck.  I thought they ballooned it.  Oh, well.  It's done.

I'm thankful they have tests to discover stuff.

I'm just tired of it.

I'll start next Monday being cheerful.

Promise.