Well, they call it stormy Monday

Now you shouldn't leave a vunerable old woman home unprotected.

One of the things I learned on Friday was that I had the math right and didn't need to probate the estate. When I finally got up around eleven on Monday I decided to use the day to get the rest of the legal transfers done on the vehicles and pistols. That would let me set them up for selling, swapping or trading and I could get the taxes done and I would have all my duckies in a row for the first time since the mate left.

I had managed to find all the "inspection" paperwork for the pistols, the titles, proofs of insurance and registrations for all the vehicles, the mortgage paperwork, the birth and marriage certificates and the mate's I.D. so I could prove to anyone just about anything they asked. I had it all in one folder.


I had a nice, hot cup of coffee, watched my birds, got my email and left just before one to catch everyone after lunch. I decided to do the pistols first and got the same lady from Friday only now we were old friends and we knew not to discuss the law that said I had to exaust every other possiblity before I shot at someone in my own home.

There is a person trying to get that changed for us and I don't even vote for him but this law needs to be changed. If someone gets through two steel doors and past my dogs I am going to assume they seriously mean me no good of some kind. With a steel hip and a bad heart I am sure not going to run very far. Why should I be in trouble, when they are the bad guy, if I take a shot at them? But, anyway....

She started to get my paperwork entered into the computer and it died. Locked right up. She reboots, still running like molassas in January. She reboots again and finally get hooked back up to the network. The guy that comes in behind me is having some kind of trouble over the sale or purchase of a motorcycle with a person I know screwed over a friend of mine buying a bike with a bad check. I feel badly for him. Sounds like a mess.

I was at least entertained while she got the machine to spit out two new inspection certifications that said I now owned one big six shooter with a red dot scope that my mate bought from my Dad, and one small six shooter with nothing fancy about it that I traded a semi auto to the cousin for. But the little one doesn't scare me, isn't very noisy and doesn't kick much. I can speed load it, too! This all took about three times as long as it should.

When I get down the road to the Sec of State office I pull of # 13. The mate's lucky number. It must have been because they got me in and out of there with all the right papers for the correct vehicles in under thirty minutes. I got back into the little red truck and put the file away, then had to wait while I cried because I didn't want to "own" his truck or his bike or his pistol. Poor mate, I know he would rather I didn't have to do all this either and he can't help much. But little things like getting his lucky number when I am taking care of business for us make me feel like he's looking out for me still.

I went home and stopped for the mail. I did better and so did Marcia. We both have problems believing he is gone sometimes, still. He always got the mail. It messes both of us up to have me get the mail. Nothing fun there and I head for the house to let the dogs out. I took the paperwork and the pistols in and reloaded mine, put his away and put the file where I could find it without straining myself later.

I decided the mate would have been especially nice to me because I had such a rough time last night and again today doing the offical paperwork we both hated so much. So I let the animals out and broke out the pork chop and mushrooms, grabbed a can of mushroom soup and some spinach and made myself a real dinner with potatos and gravy, sauted 'shroons and a vegetable, a glass of milk and a cup of coffee for after. I got my book out and read while I ate slowly. There was enough left to make the dogs and the cats fancy treats but I ate what I could.

The mates's nephew was going to pick up the white truck in the morning. I made him a list of things to check, laid it out with a key, remembered to get the registration and proof out of the folder and put it out on the back porch for him. I crawled off to bed early, for me lately.

Yesterday I managed to get up and go to work, get an apointment to have the red truck's tail gate door fixed, make it through the day without telling that story again, go over the list of things the nephew wanted to fix on the truck for me with him, test drive it, visit with him and his girl a while, get the animals set up for morning and the coffee on, add a dozen furnace restarts in here the last 4 days and two resets on the water heater and we are all caught up.

I just wish I did not miss him so much, it seems so selfish. I wish I could feel the light inside myself that I know he is a part of but it's still very dim there. And I wish my eyes didn't always feel like an empty margarita glass, liquid in the bottom and salt dried all along the rims. Any genies out there?