It was a...

It was a nice day.I went out to Yucca Valley this morning to check in some kits and get some work done. I love walking into a place and being greeted by people who appear genuinely happy to see me. I especially like it when that place is not a bar.I gave my supe some culinary lavender so she could make some lavender lemonade (most delicious and refreshing) as thanks for working so hard to keep me on at PC. She said, "No problem! You're a gem and we want to keep you!" Obviously, this lady knows that with me, flattery is like a backstage pass, baby. I bonked the Cruiser leaving a gas station. It made the most horrible noise; I fully expected to see the front grille pushed up and warped when I looked at it. As it turned out, the bang was worse than the bite and only a piece of plastic along the front grille was scraped. That noise was like nails across a blackboard. Happily, since blackboards went the way of the mimeograph, no one has to suffer that particular torture anymore.I called the owner of the dealership where I got the car and left a message to advise that I have a large (well, smaller since dustinashe got into it while I was out) pot of gazpacho to drop off in thanks for the excellent service and good deal I got. I will drop it off tomorrow (in the truck - 'cause I will *not* be toting a pot of gazpacho 2 towns away in the new car. I know how I drive.) He left a return vm saying, "That was so thoughtful! I look forward to trying your [long pause] *soup.*] I think he does not kow what gazpacho is. Then again, as it was pointed out to me this evening, this is a gentleman who has Fox News Channel playing on all the waiting room televisions. He probably thought I was bringing over a pot of communicable disease or something.I went up to the folks' house for 4th festivities, which mostly consisted of sitting around eating crackers and dip until I offered to give my mom and sis-in-law the beading lesson I promised for last Christmas. They agreed, and we were all spared a few hours of painful sitting about trying to make small talk.I stopped by at my brother's to ask him to check our dogs during the fireworks show, which is held a block away from our house. He looked disheveled, and showed me the spoils of his newest hobby: home network shopping with a specialty in gemstones. I thought about how crazy I thought him at that moment and recalled a CCS staff meeting in which I would say a majority of the staffers talked about that one brother with the psych issue. I guess if mental illness is hereditary, siblings in the mental health professions is also.I showed my mom & sis-in-law how to make drop earrings. They were very excited, and between the three of us, we knocked out about a 8 pairs in varying states of finished-ness. That was fun, and it was nice to be able to spread everythig out, without some pet trying to eat/sniff/sneeze on/take off with the goods. So I just left it all there. I think my mom is excited about the idea of having one or both of us there more often. It gives her someone to tlak to besides my dad, who you have to yell at amymore; poor bastard's going deaf and is too vain to do anything useful about it. Now mom & sis-in-law want to help me make jewelry for the October art show which I try to do whenever I can, because I make a killing. All the artists do.We watched fireworks at the Country Club, where several old family friends air-kissed at me, and everyone was just so.There was, as far as I could tell, only one small fire. Tomorrow, the golfers will have to watch for that patch. Leaving was orderly and polite; nothing like traffic anyplace else on... well, any other place *I've* ever been. The best part was, all three dogs were still here when I got home. A little bit freaked out and actively psychotic, but since that's more the norm than the exception, no harm - no foul.