I am again in tears. Cousin Jim just left. He called earlier and asked if I was accepting company. He arrived with two family heirlooms which should have been given to me upon Bro's death had my SiL not been such a silly bitch. "Been"? Still is. Thank goodness I did what I did and said what I said or these heirlooms would have left the Owens family forever for paltry dollars (long and strange story). She's like that. Anyway, there were six, and two have been returned to their proper home. I opened the first case and told his son, Daniel, a lad of 15, a story about it's contents and there was much laughter. Then, I looked at the second case and began to weep as I knew the case was my father's and I knew what was in it. I opened the case just enough to see what was in it even though I knew what it was and I lost it. Tears needing tissues. I sucked it up and told THE story about it. Jim teared up and his son understood.

Welcome home Dirty Thirty. Now that it is home, I can will it back to Cousin Jim when I die... on accounta that's what respect is all about.

Damn it's cold here tonight fer comin June month. Full moon comin and we got cloud cover and some showers so, not unusual... just abnormal given the past ten years or so.