Ghosts don't need clothes

Momther does not have the diabetes, so her house is full of baked goods.  Good for her. Sad for me. For breakfast today, she ate a blueberry muffin as big as her head. I'm not exaggerating. 

Okay, maybe a little. 

As big as her head without her big poofy doo. 

She told me a few weeks ago she was in her bedroom, dozing. Linda was here, working, but she may have been at the market or something. While dozing, she heard the lid to the garbage lift up, and go back down into place. Looking up, she saw a man, with his back turned, in a blue flannel shirt. And he walked towards the kitchen and disappeared. 

She insists it was my dad. I smiled and said that sounds nice. Then, I told her I believe in ghosts but I don't believe ghosts wear clothing. So this makes it that I don't believe she saw my dad. I don't know what she saw, but, my dead father isn't walking around in a flannel shirt. 

Ghosts don't need clothes. They don't. Clothing doesn't have the ability to become an ethereal miasma of collected molecules and float around on a ghost body. Now, if she saw some sort of glowing floating light being I may think she saw something. 

Years ago, I had a coworker who used to live on the National Parks grounds at Gettysburg when her then husband worked security. She said she saw all kinds of ghostly apparitions around. Soldiers in blue and grey. A woman who walked the porch of their cottage, back and forth, holding a candle. 

Candles can't be ghosts either, for the record. 

So I may piss off some ghosts by saying this. But it's just a fact. Why do they need to be dressed or holding a bayonet or riding a ghost horse on a ghost saddle? Makes no damn sense to me. 

We had a lovely breakfast even though I doubted her stories. She told me about a neighbor a few houses down who died in her sleep recently. Her daughter was staying with her, and she went to take a nap and never woke up. Just ... napped to the great beyond. 

I said that sounded kind of nice, no struggle or suffering, just sleep. She agreed. Then I thought about her trailer being haunted. 

I took a walk after putting the trash down the curb at 4:30, just a quick one, it was gorgeous out but I didn't tell her I was taking a walk, I didn't have my phone with me, and I didn't want her thinking I got abducted or something. She worries. 

While on my walk, I could swear I smelled baked goods. There are no bakeries near here, so why does it smell like powdered sugar and cinnamon? Maybe they are ghost donuts.

There used to be an Entenmann's outlet right down the block, and my dad loved to go buy the almost ready to expire donuts and other baked things. He'd take the kids down there with him when they'd stay. 

Then the place shut down, and the little independent pharmacy that was next door shut down too. And the buildings were vacant and in complete disarray forever. Now they've been torn down, and a new building is going in. My mom heard a rumor it's going to be a marijuana dispensary. She's so pissed off about that. 

All these burnout losers getting high in the building and then driving off the property. There's no streetlight on the corner, and now it will be impossible to make a left hand turn out of their park. She's mad about people being under the influence driving around, and I said that I bet people in this neighborhood are on medication that impairs them, and they're driving around too. Why isn't she afraid of them getting behind the wheel.

She didn't think I was funny. I then told her now maybe they'll get a stop light, this could be a very good thing. She seems to feel that'll never happen. 

Write your state representative and the town council. See what you can get going. 

Anyway. Seeing as all mom has is a lot of sugary carby things, I decided I didn't feel like going to the market, so I'd call the local Asian Fusion joint and get some take out. Jess and I ate there when I was last here and the soup, the SOUP, the soup is what I wanted. I totally wanted to get here early enough last night to get some but they close at like 8:30, so I struck out and had to eat McDonalds. But I figured tonight I'd score me some. 

I ordered online, and decided I'd run over there and pick it up, this way I could play a little Pokemon in the car, and maybe get a glass of wine and just sit and relax. 

I put on pants for this. That's how serious I was. I didn't just want to show up in my PJ pants but look like a grown ass adult who wanted to have a glass of wine and wait for the food to be ready. The bartender was super nice. I sat down and told her I was there to wait for my take out and she said "oh I'll check on it and see if it is ready." I told her you do not need to do that - I am perfectly chill. Happy to wait. It came out shortly after she gave me my glass of wine. 

I tipped generously. Bringing my deliciously over expensive wonderful food home, mom sat at the table with me while I ate. She had a fruit cup and an applesauce, and a peanut butter cookie. 

Here's a picture of take out joy and an amusing trash container.

digits 

exercise:  12/12 hours of 250 steps.   15 min walk. approx 7200+ steps by bedtime

blood glucose:

8:30am: 157
5:30pm: 163
9:45pm: 162

food:

coffee, water
11am: scoop of tuna; hummus+carrots; metformin
12:30: Grilled cheese, tuna, tomato on sara lee butter bread (high carbs, gotta get to the store for some low carb supplies!) 
7pm: tom ka soup with seafood, gyoza, crispy duck, white wine
8:30pm: metformin+jardiance
10:45pm: peanut butter cookie; mixed nuts; protein shake