Dirty Old Man

Phew! How can you be smart enough to play Scrabble but not smart enough to know you, like three-day dead Lazarus, "stinketh"? I played yesterday at a retirement home. The nearly blind lady couldn't help being a distraction, but the smelly guy had a choice. I had such a headache after one game that I switched tables. Any suggestions? If it's the same thing next week, I'm going to speak to him or hand him a note after the game.

On a lighter note, my new dining room table came at last, after about five weeks. It took two hours to get rid of all the wrappings, except for the cardboard crating. We can't put that in our dumpster. It has to go to a recycling center. I'm still chasing little plastic "bubbles" around the floor. They seem to have an electricity of their own, and they move on the air current, away from you, as you get anywhere near with a broom or rubber scooper.

Life is excellent.