Stupid relatives. Busybody relatives.

So, back to the SIL, are there any celebratory plans being made for her 65th birthday? Thinking it might be worthwhile to make a splash there.
 
So, back to the SIL, are there any celebratory plans being made for her 65th birthday? Thinking it might be worthwhile to make a splash there.

Sadly, no.

MrSue and his sister have nothing other than DNA in common. Nothing. And I’m not well enough to travel except in an RV, and we now have issues. I almost don’t drive at all any more. I take opioids too regularly and feel that opioids are not conducive to safe driving. So I’m the tortured passenger.

“Tortured?” you ask.

Indeed. My husband does not multitask. And he is hearing impaired. So when he drives, he drives. He doesn’t drive and talk. He doesn’t drive and sing along with the radio. He doesn’t drive and notice anything else at all, with one exception. We move along in silence, mile after mile, and suddenly he yells, “Look! A hawk!” Or, if he's in an educational mood, I’m treated to, “Did you see that? There was a bird platform built on the wooden power pole, above the level of the conductors!“

My response is usually something like, “Huh?“

His excited utterances continue. “Well, you see, power providers discovered that it was cheaper and safer to build a platform for eagles or certain hawks, so that they could build a nest above the level of their power lines. That kept the birds, which have humongous wing spans, from ’cross phasing‘…hitting two parallel lines at the same time… causing fried bird, downed power lines and electrical outages. Cool, huh?“

And I would reply, “Yeah. Sure.”

And that’s how it would go for 2032 miles. Each way.

But…back to SIL…we really don’t do well in each others’ worlds.
 

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