Monday, February 20, 2012

Dropping like flies

In the wee morning hours on Sunday, my grandmother bought the farm... And no, I'm not getting a pony.

If any readers, (I know I've got a couple of stalker readers who loom in the shadows, in addition to my one bread-based commenter,) know about or share in my love of the show "The Walking Dead" then you know what I'm talking about when I say we are not planning on keeping her in the barn. I know my jokes come off as callous, and that I am trivializing the demise of someone who was very dear to me, but but please don't misunderstand. In addition to the fact that humor is how I cope with unpleasant situations, she had been very very ill for a long time, so I've had some time to come to grips with the fact that this day was coming, and frankly, I am grateful that she is no longer suffering, because that is what her life had devolved to.

I feel like all I seem to do around here anymore is report bad news and unfortunate circumstances. And as such, I admit to thinking about hanging it up and calling it a day here at the happy hour. I haven't come to a final conclusion yet, but I feel like I owe it to the few people who still read this garbage to admit that it has at least crossed my mind.

So there's that...

1 comment:

bun(s) said...

Sorry to hear about your grandma. I don't view that particular show so I don't know how important the barn is/isn't. But since she's no longer suffering she should be in a better place now. Keep your humor in tact, it is who you are. Don't apologize for that.

If the Happy Hour isn't going to offer any more specials I'll have to find another establishment to stalk. And if that's the case thanks for the great pours over the years.

Hope you stay, but if you go, keep your chin up and walk proud.

Your fervent bread based stalker...