Greetings and salutations, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year December 2022 Hope all of you had a wonderful 2022. I have nothing funny to report on the year. My year started with further tests on my heart at Parkview Hospital. The results were that I needed a partial engine overhaul, so they cracked open my chest and did a triple by-pass surgery. Then wired it back together with the promise in 6 months I’d feel like a new man. (I’m still waiting.) Having your chest cracked open is no walk in the park (If you had it you know what I mean, if you haven’t, I hope you never will.) The recovery is the tough part, lordy that hurts for a long time. I was probably the worst patient Parkview has had in a while, I couldn’t get out of there soon enough, too many rules. They have a beeper on the bed and the chair, and won't let you get up and down when you want. Wanted to follow me into the bathroom. Wanted me to get up and walk around, but then no one is there to help you. Bugger it all, I figured I could do just as well at home, and after 5 days of continued griping they let me out. I did better at home. I was told I couldn’t drive for 8 weeks, Hahaha, I was back behind the wheel in 4 days. Told me I wouldn’t be able to work for 3 months, Hahaha, 10 days and I was back. (Yes, I still work, 5 days a week, plus the “honey do list”) I still couldn’t \ can’t do a lot of the things there “plumbing” repair was supposed to fix. Still can’t mow the lawn, so I bought a Z-turn rider (boy is that thing fun, I don't mind mowing now. It even has a cup holder). And that pretty much concludes my excitement for 2022. I’ve been busy with a lot of follow up appointments ever since, including 6 this December. They are going to try to fix my back, again, and look at my kidneys, so next year we’ll have a report on that. Good news, my lungs seem okay, at least I’m still breathing, as well as sitting up and taking nourishment (too much sometimes.) Update12/23, guess I have a bulging disc at L4. Just finished physical therapy, and it has helped a lot, but not a cure…oh well :) Cindy has been busy mostly taking care of her children (I’m talking about her dogs. I'm not going to tell you how many we have, but it is too many). We \ she had a few new births this year and passed on new puppies to happy new owners. Although “owner” is a bit of a misnomer, I think our dogs own us. Spoiled rotten all of them, and they can be quite demanding. I mean who do they think they are telling us when they get a treat. I mean no one ever gave me a treat every time I peed outside. And, I know what would have happened if I growled at Dad because he wanted to sit in his chair. And just because Dixie decides to sleep in my bed doesn’t give her the right to pick any spot she wants, it is my bed. I kid, we love them all, and they bring a lot of joy (sometimes) to our home. I can’t sit in my chair without Dixie, Molly and Teddy on my lap, always. Cindy can’t sit in her chair without little Joey behind her, his head on her shoulder. Cindy is the Pied Piper of dogs. Wherever she goes, they trot right along behind, especially if she goes to the kitchen. When she eats, she has to get enough to share, and they are not picky. Those dogs will eat anything. If I go to the kitchen and get something to drink, no problem. But, if I open the refrigerator or touch the cookie jar then the dogs start snooping to see what I've got. I've tried to hide my booty, and pretend I don't have anything in my hand, but it doesn't work. Kinda hard to fool that nose of theirs. They can smell a cookie a mile away. And if you are carrying a dish, especially a bowl, watch your back, and don't leave it unattended. They are good at licking bowls, clean enough to put back in the cupboard. Their favorite treats are “Twizzlers” black licorice and “Good & Plenty” candy. I have to give a shout out to the Tazza Cafe. The best coffee shop in town. The every morning meeting place for a bunch of us seasoned gentlemen. Where we commiserate and solve the world’s problems, and compare aches and pains. Amanda (the owner), and the other lovely baristas do a good job of looking after us old farts. My Dad and his buddies had their “Gut Buster Club”, now I guess it’s my turn. Same lies, just told by another generation. We tell tall tales from our past 70+ years on earth. Our eldest member is 90. Most are Vets. And from all different walks of life, lawyer, construction, salesman, gas company, retired military, music teacher, office worker, Republicans & Democrats. The world could benefit from our wisdom Problem is no one outside the coffee shop is listening. Brian is still here, down in his man cave, nothing new to report on him. He does 3 things well, eating, watching TV and laundry. Mostly I just need help with the heavy stuff. I suppose that is my fault for letting myself get outta shape. When we are younger we wait for the day when we can sit on our butt in an office instead of actually having to “work” for a living. Now I'm thinking maybe that wasn't such a good thing. Should've joined a gym, but that would be work. Tracy has moved back home, probably temporary though. She is a good cleaner, laundry girl and organizer, and we need that around here, so she is a big help. Between people and dogs, we have a full and busy house. I'm sometimes glad to go to work, and escape. Peace and Joy to all, Alan, Cindy, Tracy, Brian, and the furry crew Meet Taffy