My Aging Skull: The Diagnosis

So I guess all those headaches may have stemmed partly from having the equivalent of a hose nozzle on the pressure-wash setting in my brain veins.

It turns out that the high blood pressure that I tried to treat with a strict regimen of denial is now only higher and I get to take old-lady water pills and eat bananas therapeutically.

I asked the doctor if my blood pressure would go back down if I lost twenty pounds. She said no because I am old and have bad genes.

I am not ready to be old.

I Hurt My Hand on my Dog's Fur

Bathed and brushed two collies. Don't know which is worse - the short-haired version that shoots gobs of hair at you like a skunk shoots stink until it has clogged the drain, slimed your hands, and lays piled in drifts on the carpet, or the long-haired version who keeps his hair in the hope that he can turn it into mats if left unbrushed for more than 20 minutes.


Okay, it's the long-haired one. Getting the old winter fluff out from between all the long hairs is a painful process for both of us. My hands hurt, and I'm too tired to vacuum.

Although the name "collie" is said to be shrouded in history, it is thought that the name originated from the old Anglo-Saxon word "coll," meaning "black." I, however, claim that the word "collie" is Gaelic for Carpal Tunnel Syndrome.


If I'm lucky, Drew will come home tomorrow and be disgusted enough to vacuum. He ought to do it. After all, I mowed the lawn today.