Quivering

Now that the kiddies have all gone to bed, I can tell that joke I mentioned yesterday.

I first heard this joke over 50 years ago, back when I was a Boy Scout. It shows how Scouting promotes the moral stability of the young. It came to mind a couple of months ago when tremors began to make my hands and right leg quiver uncontrollably at various times.

Yesterday Ginny and I visited Dr. Trout, the neurologist who examined me to determine the cause of my shaking. After weeks of tests and anticipation we expected to learn the cause of this quivering. Then we waited for two hours in his office because somehow between his office and the lab, a distance of maybe 50 feet, my test results got lost.

What a boost to my confidence.

Anyhow, after calling here and there to find my lab results, Dr. Trout still does not know what causes these tremors. He eliminated some possibilities such as Parkinson’s and syphilis (I could have told him that) and guesses that perhaps a Vitamin B12 deficiency causes my trouble. I’ll be taking that stuff for a couple of months to see what happens.

But tomorrow we go visit the oncologist and I’m supposed to tell him my decision about which treatment option I choose to deal with the prostate cancer.

But, enough medical stuff.

This morning, for the first time ever, the Webalizer counter for my site shows that over 10, 000 readers have visited this blog in a single month.

Wow.

Thank you. I’m overwhelmed by your interest. I hope you find it worthwhile.

I know. I know. I haven’t got to the joke yet. And that’s the only reason anyone reads this stuff:

There was this baker who owned his own shop.

He hired a counter girl who always came to work wearing a short skirt, a very short skirt.

Now she was a short girl and to reach the baked goods on the upper shelves, she had to climb a ladder.

Soon all the young men who came into the shop realized that the baker kept raisin bread on the very top shelf where the young lady couldn’t reach it without going up the ladder and putting on an impressive floor show.

Raisin bread became the bakery’s top seller as the girl ran up and down that ladder all day.

One morning as she was up there getting a loaf of raisin bread for another customer, an elderly gentleman came in the door of the shop. The girl looked over her shoulder and said, “Well, is it raisin for you too, Pops”?

“No,” the old guy said, “But it’s a-quivering”.

Remember, you read it here first.

Oh, here’s a photo of one of the dogs we rescued last week:

An acquaintance moved from a house with a yard to a condo apartment complex where dogs are not allowed. After trying unsuccessfully to place the dogs, the owners made a decision. This boxer and an even larger dog were going to be turned over to the dog catcher and gassed. With much tugging and pulling (these are the two most powerful animals I’ve ever encountered) my daughter-in-law and I found a new home for each of them.

These dogs are really just too beautiful to be gassed for being an inconvenience.

Ginny says the same is true about me in spite of my jokes and my quivering.