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One of my dad's friends insisted that I come over to Wanda's house to use a computer where no one is waiting for me to stop, so here I am in a stranger's office. No one is home. So trusting, these people are. I mean, at the grocery store, the box boy takes your grocery bags out to your car while you're at the register paying and puts them away for you. I can't imagine someone in Berkeley letting a stranger go out and get in their car without them present.

The weather is a lot warmer than I expected. It was 56 today, with scattered showers. Supposedly, tomorrow they're predicted to get rain-turning-to-snow, so they expect much lower temperatures. Apparently a few days ago the temp got down to 15 at 10pm. So I brought a warm wool coat but haven't had any reason to wear it thus far. I may be glad to have it later, though. That's what everyone at the grocery store said, anyway.

My dad has a cat named Edie (named for the street he lives on: Edith) and she's terribly cute. She's about a year old and absolutely tiny. Our cats would dwarf her. She has the cutest high-pitched meow, and she is terribly outgoing. Within minutes of meeting me, she leapt up onto my lap and made herself comfortable. She also leapt up on my bed last night and insisted on being petted. I stayed in bed about 20 minutes after I'd woken up, because I was busy petting the cat.

My dad actually does have a tv and cable; he got them after I had talked to him and he'd told me he didn't have a tv. So we've watched some tv together -- just a bit -- and I'm amazed by how long commercial breaks are! I've gotten spoiled by our Tivo and it seems like the commercials take longer than the show! It's very frustrating. It was better watching BBC news. My dad likes to watch true crime shows, but those aren't always on. I'm surprised that he hasn't had a tv in a long time, because he seems to turn the tv on as background noise all the time. I thought only die-hard tv watchers did that, like my mom. It's rather odd.

My dad is making dinner tonight. Some beef thing with roasted potatoes and carrots. I offered to help but he insisted on doing it all on his own. He keeps asking me, "Do you eat such-and-such?" and I keep telling him, "I eat almost everything, Dad." He's paranoid that he's going to pick the one thing I don't eat. But the things I don't like are things I'll still eat, like eggplant and raw tomatoes. So it's no big deal. But he's taking my status as a visitor very seriously. Of course, I guess we'll be eating dinner in front of the television, since he doesn't have a table to eat at and that's where the chairs are. It'll be just like home, except without the coffee table to put stuff on.

Well, off I go to have dinner back at Dad's house. I wish I had time to read my friends list, but maybe another day.



( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Oct. 23rd, 2006 12:40 pm (UTC)

That's interesting. I also can't imagine the store trusting you to complete the transaction once the groceries were in your car.

When I was growing up in midcoast Maine, supermarket personnel routinely pushed your cart out to your car and loaded the bags in your car for you, but only after the transaction was complete and you were present to unlock the car for them. One time, we got a flat tire and the guy from the supermarket helped us change the tire. They had a strict no- tipping policy, and he refused the $5 my Mom offered him (which was a significant amount of money in the mid-70s in Maine - the minimum wage was probably under $2/hour), so when he wasn't looking, she stuffed it in his coat pocket.

In Canada they have drive-up carports where you can pull your car up to the store and they'll put the groceries in your car, but I think that's more a concession to cold weather than small-town friendliness, as I've seen it in Edmonton and Winnipeg, which are definitely not small towns.

In Canada, cases of beer have hand holes big enough to stick your hands through when you're wearing wool mittens.

Have you thought about who will look after the cat when your dad's gone? She sounds just darling.

Oct. 29th, 2006 05:40 pm (UTC)
Have you thought about who will look after the cat when your dad's gone? She sounds just darling.

Except for the fact that he's trained her to scratch and bite, she's adorable. I don't know if we would take her if he died. I don't know who else would, though. It would be a problem if we took her, because she's an indoor/outdoor cat, and she would become completely indoor if she moved in with us. I don't think she would like that very well.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

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