Had a nice conversation with my sister yesterday.

After a protracted run of the "Summer Snots," she has become a devotee of the neti pot.

It's the first day of Fall! Yay!

So it's not too early to begin assembling the menu for the family Christmas luncheon.

On the menu so far is the traditional shrimp cocktail, deep-fried soft-shell crab with a crawfish cream sauce, those lovely scalloped potatoes I tried last year, a salad and a dessert.

The salad and dessert are open so far.

Do I ever do good news?

I have a piece. A 57-year-old National Guard vet who's done a turn or two in Afghanistan stayed at the condo in August with his wife and daughter.

It's policy that we give a gift basket for those who stay a week, but we backed off this summer because we reduced prices in view of the well disaster.

Lyman and the mister wheedled each other a bit and we decided to give a basket to this couple.

The guests and the basket arrived at the same time. I suppose they went up the elevator together, because she had time to notice and admire it before it arrived at her door.

Is there anything better than admiring something and have it instantly become yours?

Our resident redhead gave us a turn on Thursday.

She was squinting again, which we learned five years ago is evidence of pain, and vomiting again. And drinking a lot of water. Looked like the egg-binding episode to me.

I took her to Dr. Debbie. An x-ray didn't show an egg, but, she said, a thin-shelled egg won't show up. In an abundance of caution, the doctor dosed her with a vial of calcium and one of fluids for egg-binding and prescribed an antibiotic in case of bacterial infection. Drinking a lot of water can be a sign of infection.

Lucy laid a thin-shelled egg Friday night.

Our thirty-one-year-old clothes dryer died. It was a Kenmore. Rest in pieces, fella. We won't see the like ever again.

Something worth blogging about. I don't much care about telling everyday stuff, but I'll pass this on from my brother.

He says that if you don't like television and are in a non-private room in a hospital, your rights are not respected. He was in that situation at the VA. He doesn't watch television. He socializes.

I rarely watch television anymore, and I despise the din. I don't watch CNN, I don't watch Fox, I don't watch Oprah or morning shows, I've lost interest in HGTV, and a battle between young chefs doesn't hold me.

It ticks me off that Lyman's younger son sleeps on a couch beside the television in the front room rather than a bed with clean sheets.

That's it.

That Lucy. The little red hen sits about closed-mouth until everyone is out of the house and I'm in a back room, then she lets loose with the most interesting trills, clucks, honks and variety vocalizations, including words.

This week I'll begin trying to videotape her. She won't make it easy.

Ya know, if you're a woman who wants to be tattooed all up and down your arms and legs, you might think about buying print tops that don't clash with the tattoos.

Just sayin'.

New vocabulary: osteomyelitis, vertebral, in this case

Um, Belk's is having a good sale on light summer pajama pants and shorts, some more than 50% off.

My brother developed a debilitating low back pain that didn't respond to treatment. A trip to the VA for a week and two MRI's and a bone scan later brought doctors to this diagnosis.

Now he's hospitalized again for up to eight weeks of treatment. The only thing he can think of that might have caused the infection is a persistent bedsore that he developed when he was in the hospital before.

What a bore. But this time, he is being treated in our new Promise acute care facility on the bank of the Mississippi here in Vidalia. It's about five minutes away from here and accessible to friends.

His room is on the river side with a huge picture-window view of the river and the bridge.

Thank you, Leila.

Why do I think Leila lives in a Southern household? Maybe Texan.
"...through the niiiiight, from the liiiiight up abuv..."

Leila, sweetie, I'm not making fun. I'm a Texan in the Deep South.

I had the oddest dream the other night. An old friend showed up to hold my hand. He has been dead for seventeen years. His hand was dry but not fleshless.

We didn't talk much. Most of the dream is lost. I do remember the comfort.

Happy Father's Day!

How about a little good news from the Gulf of Mexico?

BP feeds have been updated here.

I am currently watching a screen of several live feeds found here.

Something similar can be found here.

Better techs than I can use these feeds.

A useful diagram of BP's current plan is here.

I'd like to know why CNN's Kyra Phillips thinks she's at the heart of the BP operation when she's not on the ship Discoverer Enterprise or Houston headquarters, but traveling with Adm. Allen.

It's all like so technical and I can't understand what they're saying, and these people do tedious things.

To try to understand what they're saying (not saying that I can, all of it) try The Oil Drum.

UPDATE: A Silverlight multifeed here.

Some people watch NASCAR, some golf, some baseball. I've been glued to the footage of ROVs the past two days, at BP's live feed and all the others I can access.

At the mildest estimate, 210,000 gallons of oil are released into the gulf everyday until BP at least reduces that amount with a containment cap. So why did it take from 12:30 or 1 am last night when it stalled until past 4 this afternoon to bring the diamond saw to the surface for repair or replacement?

Sometimes life just ain't worth living.

Returning home today from the Redneck Riviera we passed the site of Vernon Beal's OK Body Shop. The name has been changed to "Beal's Collision Center."

I bet it's those execrable uppity children changing things after papa's retired or gone.

Now, the beach is as gorgeous as always.

Your home away from home in beautiful Orange Beach, Alabama.

Hear the crashing of the waves syncopated by the musical tinkling of the drip from your neighbors' showers and toilets. Are you having fun yet?

Happy Mother's Day, y'all!

We celebrated on Friday with a fried catfish lunch for Lyman's mother. It's her favorite meal here because Lyman will cook her fish just the way she likes it -- crisp through and through. None of that yucky moisture in the fish for her.

The pomegranate tree has finally blossomed. It has been in the ground at least four years.