06.28.26 Passing on the tradition of St. Joseph....

     It was a busy day, well three days, in the neighborhood this weekend. Our neighbor Lynn is about to begin the process of listing her home of sixty years for sale. She lives two doors down from us and not only is a great neighbor but grew up in our house with her six sisters and parents. We purchased the home from her Mother in 2018. 

     We planned on doing this together, but we went ahead and derailed that plan soon after I finger painted the above sign and sold it during one of our estate sales. The plan was to get a realtor and list them at the same time figuring the two houses for sale at the same time would create a buzz and attract multiple buyers. 

     When we decided in January to do this I set a hard listing date of May 22nd. Well we had a handshake offer and deal a week before and on May 29th we were under contract. And now we're just about three weeks away from closing. Before we put up that sign on the lawn, which I must 

say was genius on my part, I went ahead and buried a small plastic statue of St. Joseph head first into the ground. And this wasn't just any statue, it was the same statue Lynn and her sister's 

buried into the ground in 2017 before they listed their Mom's house. During my landscaping renovations a few years ago I dug it up and saved it for when we ever sold the house. Well, St. Joseph came through.

     Selling a home is no easy feat. And the older you are and the longer you've been in a house it becomes more and more difficult. We've only been in our house for eight years, but we lugged both of our previous lives into it. Past marriages, multiple houses, coupled with us a team of hoarders, we had enough stuff that would have been a burden to our kids and families when we eventually passed on. When parents do this downsizing and move the kids today have no idea how much headache and work we have saved them from. 

     I saw this when my Mom moved from Red Bank, to Middletown, to Titusville, before landing in Florida. That spanned almost 50 years of her life. My parents recently downsized from a home 

they were in for nearly 30 years. And my kid sister just downsized from a big house to a nice sized townhouse with two kids in tow. For Lynn, who's husband of 60 years passed two years ago, she's doing this solo. Sixty years of stuff from herself, her husband, her four kids, and her in-laws. 

     The physical and emotional work that it takes to move is, well, if you don't know then you don't know. Some of us identify our past and our existence by what we keep around us. That's more for older generations than the new kids, who are generally minimalists and want nothing. I can't tell you how many times we've reached out, "Hey, do you want this?", only to be told, "No, we're good". Maybe the memories of things are good enough without having physical reminders in hand, which take up space, both physical and mental. 

      So Lynn pulled the trigger and hired an estate sale company to do the heavy lifting, well part of it, this weekend. We, since it was two of us, were able to run two-three day estate sales during this spring. It went well, hey, we sold a house, a Jeep, a pick-up, a boat, a log splitter, a snowblower, a tractor, a bedroom set, and more stuff than we could imagine we ever had. And then Facebook Marketplace helped us out well as well, that's where my Pyrex and Lionel train collections found their buyers. 

     And in order to be ready for a sale stuff has to be edited through, given away, dropped off at Goodwill or stuffed into a donation bin, or loaded up into a dumpster. And while we have said good-bye to a 30 and then 20-yard dumpsters I'm thinking we just might need a smaller version to get us out of here, maybe just a 10-yarder for all the last minute things. 

     With us as good as gone Lynn is now preparing for staging and pictures for her listing which will go live in about a month. And soon she will bury her St. Joseph statue in her yard for that extra help in selling her house. But what's the story with St. Joseph and the tradition of planting his state into the ground. Did they even sell houses back in his day?

     It started back in the 1500's when Carmelite nuns buried medals of St. Joseph as an act of prayerful trust to acquire properties for religious buildings. Then over the centuries homebuilders would bury a statue in the walls of a newly constructed home to bless the house. That tradition carried on to include the practice of burying a statue and saying a prayer before a home was listed for sale. It became more of a tradition, or lore, than something truly based in a religious sense. And once it became a novelty, people started to capitalize on it. I can't imagine how much money has been made on statues, kits, and prayer cards over the last century. 

    A quick search online came up with a ton of options for those needing a little help from St. Jospeh. On Etsy you can purchase an "Authentic" and "Complete" home selling kit for $34.95. But you better hurry as the ad states, "Low in stock, only 1 left". This deluxe option comes with sage to burn, citrine stones, a prayer card, instructions, and of course a statue. Maybe the more you spend the better a chance of selling your house you'll have. 

    And then there's the how to do it. Some say it should go over here, or over there, facing this way or that way, or straight up or upside down. While the Catholic Church doesn't offer guidelines into this "tradition" some do offer an opinion. 

     In his book, Consecration to St. Joseph, Father John Calloway pens this advice. "Statues, unlike medals, are not made to be buried. Whatever you do, never bury a statue of St. Joseph upside down. People sometimes do this bizarre practice as a form of spiritual bribery, promising to turn the statue of St. Joseph right side up only if their home is sold. Such a practice is akin to treating a statue of St. Joseph as a talisman or a good luck charm. St. Joseph is your spiritual father, not a trinket.”

    Well, whoops, I buried ours upside down, but had good, and immediate, results. So in the end I can say this. Selling a home, a big old home, and one you've lived in for a long time is a daunting task. It takes hard work, some balls, some luck, and maybe Divine intervention to get it all done. There are so many moving parts that could go sideways, and you don't know about them until they pop up. 

     So as we begin our descent on this flight of selling two houses, and buying three, we are holding our breath that each day nothing new happens and we get to July 16th, the first, and biggest closing. That'll be here in New Jersey before we head to South Carolina to complete the other two. We have the sale in Cape May done with just the purchase left to be completed. That's a lot of moving parts, and we're not out of this until it's all over, which could be by July 25th. Hopefully we'll never have to sell or buy again, but if we do I now know to keep St. Joseph upright buried in the ground. 

     And then there's Zillow and their Zestimate. Our home has gone up in value by $100,000 since we signed the contract just 30 days ago. That's okay, we're good. I hope for the kids, the couple who are buying it, the home serves them well and increases in value each year they are here. We sold it for what we thought it was worth, with all the goods, the bads, and the uglies. We did it ourselves and saved the cost of the realtors commissions, which would have been like $50,000. Having to pay 50 grand would have surely knocked us out of the box for the most wonderfuliest and loveliest property that was available for purchase in South Carolina.....

     And isn't she just lovely? Hopefully I'll never have to plant St. Joseph in the yard down there. I hope they take me out of the Shrimp Shack feet first and bury me somewhere in the ground. Just please not feet first into a nursing home or assisted living. That's why we're doing all of this. To get busy living before it's time to get busy dying. 

06.27.26 Could it have been me behind the wheel?....

     Yesterday Genell McInaw, 51, of Seaside Park, was sentenced to five years in state prison after pleading guilty to vehicular homicide charges stemming from the accident that killed Bob Popovics in a hit and run accident on September 23, 2024. She was charged with Vehicular Homicide, Strict Liability Vehicular Homicide, and Knowingly Leaving the Scene of a Motor Vehicle Crash Resulting in Death. Her delayed BAC was 0.87%, twice the legal limit in New Jersey. 

     I don't understand all the ins and outs of the legal system but in my gut and heart five years for taking someone else's life doesn't seem to be justice. Yes, accidents happen, but was this truly an accident? Accidents happen once, and it could have been anyone of us behind the wheel, truthfully, but was this a one-time "accident" or the end result of a continued and enabled pattern of reckless behaviors? 

     And who is to blame for the light sentence? Is it the the lawyers, the prosecutors, Judge Palmer, or the judicial system as a whole? Only a few years ago people were sentenced to years, even decades, for peddling what is now legal marijuana on the streets, with even stiffer penalties for doing so within a school zone. And in those cases there was no death, not even an injury. People are sentenced more for possessing porn, or stealing money from their church, clients, or even a bank. Yes, there are victims with every crime, but not resulting in death, and not causing a death and fleeing the scene. 

     A quick Google search came up with the above relating to New Jersey's Vehicular Homicide charges and penalties. The above are strictly related to taking a life while operating a motor vehicle where a death occurs. It seems if you kill someone with a car, and are under the influence, then the sentences are lighter then if you just went and killed someone with a weapon or your hands. As seen below, 

     So, again with not knowing the legal mumbo-jumbo that goes with charges, sentencing, and penalties, it all seems to come down to how the charges are written, how they are interpreted, and how the lawyers, prosecutors, and the judge handle the case. In Popovic's case it seems the "Hanging Judge" must have been off when this case was assigned. McInaw was sentenced to five years, and under the No Early Release Law in New Jersey, she will have to serve 85% of that, which makes her eligible for parole in four years and three months. 

Again, knowingly going out and bar hopping, knowingly driving a car while intoxicated that could lead to an accident, knowingly and admittedly striking someone with a car, and LEAVING them for dead, should call for a stiffer sentence then five years. But, sadly, it is what it is.

     But, what about all the events that lead up to that fateful night? How many people, and establishments, enabled this behavior for years before September 23, 2024? The Popovic's family has already filed a wrongful death suit against the saloons she hopped to and from that night, The Sawmill, Berkeley Cut Steakhouse, and Hooks Bar and Grill. She was a regular. This happened more than once. It was a pattern of reckless, and enabled, behavior. And what about her friends, family, and co-workers? Not to point blame, but histories of dangerous behavior often go noticed, and when bad things happen, isn't everyone in the know somehow on the hook for it? That is not to, in any way, shield her from her responsibility for what she did.....but? 

     

     Recently, I just finished teaching a six week course in psychiatric-mental health nursing. A large part of mental health covers substance use disorders, of which Alcohol Use Disorder falls under. It's a diagnosis found in the APA's DSM-V, which is the Bible used in psychiatry to diagnose mental health disorders. Many patient's with substance use disorders arrive there due to a family history or a trauma related past, and the addiction becomes both a physical and psychological dependence on substances, including alcohol and or drugs, or both. And sadly, while these disorders can injure or kill the patient themselves, often there are other victims; family, friends, and strangers. In news stories and comments I have read it appears McInaw might have suffered from a long history of alcoholism, or Alcohol Use Disorder. That's not a pass, but it's hard to have that diagnosis without other people being in the know. 

     For those patient's how many people knew, enabled, watched out for, made excuses for, and then said to themselves, "I knew this was going to happen?", in the end. How many establishments served her for years always having a watchful eye on that line, too much to drink on any given bender, and too much on board to drive? Locals are locals. Local hangs are local hangs. But dangerous patterns of behaviors will one day rear their ugly heads, as it did here. And again, her choice, her actions, and solely her responsibility. But the question I have is a sentence like this really a good deterrent to others who have, or will commit these same crimes in the future? 

     The truth is people have been driving drunk since alcohol was invented. We can see it everyday in the news. No matter how many horrific accidents happen and lives are lost these bahviors still continue. In this day and age don't you think breatherlizers would be built into every vehicle that comes off the line? Or at least an affordable option?

    They are called Ignition Interlock Devices and are mandatory for drivers who have had a previous DUI. And some people have had multiple offenses. I'm not saying that every vehicle and every person should have to have one installed, but would it hurt? And what about having them at the local tavern? Yes, people with a problem do drink alone, but how many drive to their local watering hole, some each and everyday? 

     So the question is could I have been the one behind the wheel. I'm 58 now, and luckily still around. But how many times in my life, from the age of 17 until now, have I been over the 0.08 BAC limit? I can tell you a ton. I've never been pulled over, never been caught in a DUI check point, never had an accident, and thankfully never hit anyone. But, as I think back, what about all of those nights, and days, out. It started in high school and those weekend bashes when parents weren't home, and then at Seton hall, days as an ironworker and all those rain out days that landed you in the gin mills, the firehouse and the parties, retirement ratchets, and parades, opening the bar after long shifts on the ambulance, late nights out at the skier joints, Christmas parties, day drinking lunches and dinners, Mimosa filled brunches, repasts after funerals, hangs with the boys after a good days or nights fishing, The Fly Fishing Show hangs when it's not all under one roof, and even an innocent "Start me another" extra pint of Guinness before the hops or whatever sets off my allergies. Hell, add to it weddings and reunions and just everything else, and yes, it could have been me. Any day. Any night. Any year, for the last 41. 

     Jesus sat there and said to the townspeople who were about to throw stones at the adulterous woman, "Let him who is without sin cast the first stone". No doubt the wounds of Bob's passing have opened up wounds that may have begun to partially heal. And for that my heart goes out to Bob's family and friends. But, for many of us, if you are going to be honest, how many times over the course of your life have you been wearing the same shoes, with those shoes on the gas pedal? That's not said to excuse people who hurt people, and break the law, even in the midst of their psyhcological and physical dependence. Actions have consequences, it just seems in this case, and many, the punishment doesn't fit the crime.

     Since Bob's accident I have been more aware of my drinking when it comes to driving. And I'm not talking about going out drinking and driving. But a few beers, that's all I drink, but I do like Mimosas at brunch from time to time, with friends or family or at the bar with Theresa is what I'm talking about. Two's my limit, along with some food. Anymore I know to stop or hand the keys over. Some people take a more responsible stance, if I driving I'm not drinking. Not. Even. One.

     If you find yourself out and about with half a load on give your keys up, call a friend, call for an Uber. And if you find yourself drinking too much for too long then check yourself and get help, and there's tons of it out there. As part of my course I sent the kids out on an assignment. Find a local self-help group meeting and attend, in person. There's one for everything that may be your poison, Narcotics, Alcohol, Gambling, Sex, and Overeaters to name a few. You deserve better, your loved ones deserve better, and the victims of the result of addiction and bad behaviors deserve better as well.  

06.26.26 Alrighty, one down...

     ... and four more closings to go. Tough back light on the above image but it's the best one to show what we did in 24 hours. It was on Father's Day when we got a call and then sold our place down in Cape May. I call it our Shore House, Theresa calls it a trailer in a campground. But it's been so much more then that. 

     With our buyers eager to start using it we had to go down on Wednesday, empty and clean it out, do the transaction, and get out. Of course we had a lot of stuff to move. I reached 

out to the owner of the place that we are buying right around the corner but he said his family is still using it through the July 4th weekend, so moving in early wasn't an option. So the next best thing was to rent one, well actually two, storage units to hold it all for a month before closing. 

     You can start to hum the theme song from the television show Sanford & Son just about now. What started off as a neat and coordinated move ended up being a just-throw-it-in-there-move as Thursday morning turned into early afternoon. One thing I'm going to miss, and I'm not sure how we survived 

without it, was the huge shed we bought and placed on our lot. It was an end of season parking lot model from Lowe's and of course I was too cheap to pay for someone to deliver it. I think the shed cost $800, and delivery would have been $450, no thanks.

     So on June 1st, 2022, my dear friend Mike and I managed to get it up, drive it down, and then off and into place. The lot that we had was big, and the envy of many since we had no neighbors on the one side. In our new place we're tight for space, so there will be no big shed there. 

     By 2 o'clock yesterday we were all done with the moving and Theresa's very detailed cleaning. We delivered them a place that we leave better than it was when we purchased it in 2020. 

     Looking back I now realize how much we broke our assess there over the last six years. From new floors, to everything outside including a drainage system and new patio. It was really a far cry from how the previous owners left it to us.

     In the end the purchase and then sale was just about even money. And that's okay. We're under contract for the new place and we didn't want to own two places there with a 2027 $9,400 seasonal fee times two for next year. And if didn't sell we would have had to have to pay someone to pull it out and get it crunched up, so selling it, now, was the move. 

     It comes at a good time as there's been some things we've had to pay for that kind of caught us by surprise, but I guess common when you sell a country house. Well water sample inspection $1,300, and then mediation in the form of a UV light and a filter system, about $5,000. Septic inspection $750, and then some manhole access repairs, $1,200. And then there's a deposit for the moving company, and it all adds up. And, to tow the boat, I'll need a tow bar installed with the proper hook ups for the boat trailer, and then have the boat trailer onced over by a professional. 11 hours is a long drive to tow a boat. 

     As I made yet another trip over to the storage place yesterday I couldn't help but notice Jay off to my left. When I saw him I thought of myself and The Shrimp Shack down in South Carolina. He too has a shack, one the Amish came and built a few years ago. 

     He's got me by a few years but he's a man after my own heart. He has a boat "that I'll get going one day", a shack full to the brim of projects not completed and yet to be started, and a chair that sits at the entrance where he sits and listens to the radio. He said he would have more it better organized but the knee-braced knee and bum hip keep him from being where it should be.

    But the truth is, like for me, it's never about the hip, or the knee, or the time, or the help you may or may not have. It's the, I don't even know how to put it into words, it's the pursuit of the completion and success that is always unobtainable, or avoided. It's the chase that is the game. If his place, like mine out in Titusville used to be, was all organized and done it wouldn't feel comfortable and like home. It's just another form of chaos, which we all know is where I, and folks like Jay, like to operate. 

      Soon I'll be at my own shack, which is crazy if you think of it. A Man Cave extraordinaire nestled in a neighborhood of new construction that is going through a rebirth. I promise to be a good neighbor and property owner in the Town of Ridgeland, South Carolina. I will resist in 

returning this glorious place to what is was a just a few years ago. A skiff and camper sat under the geerage. Boats strewn across the lawn along with some refrigerators and more tools and mowers than you could count. If it ever does get back to what it was I'll surely have to invite Cape May Jay down for a hang. He'll get it I'm sure. 

     And back to Cape May. In a few weeks we'll be moving all of that stuff into our new abode. We've met the neighbors. We've already sat on the front porch. This too will be a great home away from home. Besides just loving Cape May it will give a place to escape the Lowcountry heat and humidity of the summers down South. So far so good with all the plans and moving parts, but, it'll take just one thing going sideways to derail it all. So fingers crossed as we push ahead.

06.24.26 We're getting closer everyday Jim...

     Last day, tough day. It comes with the territory. It was final exam day. In the end two of my students weren't successful and will have to repeat the same course next year. It kills me when this happens. One thing I do is take it to heart. I review the final exam several times to make 

sure there wasn't a trend in poor performance on any particular question and I check myself to see what I could have done better. It's kind of like, "No Child Left Behind", but I felt like I did just that. But they are resilient and strong, and will be successful next year.

     And since I was bummed out for the day I took the opportunity to do something to lift my spirits. With the days ticking down it was finally time to pry the tires of the Jones Brother's boat off the concrete pad where it has sat for several years now. I say it's my boat, but it will always be Jim, of BrineFly and Pulse Disc fames, Matson's pride and joy. 

     Jim purchased it in 1996 and used it over the years until his passing in 2018. It sat for two more years before I purchased it from his wife Laura. It was an interesting take over. Jim, as I called him the mad scientist, had this boat rigged up in ways boat mechanics and electricians couldn't make heads or tails of. 

     It had radar, it had every scan you could imagine, enough batteries to power New York City, motors in the front and back, and more switches and wires then your old grandfather's train layout 

from the 1960's that he kept down in the dungeon of a basement. I used the boat several times but each time it was was nerve wracking. Luckily I always had a bud with me to help out when things went sideways.

     Would it start? Would it stay running? Can we shut it off? And for Popovics, "Did I put the plug in?". And no day was more challenging than that December morning, December 4th to be exact, in 2020. Bunky and I had a good morning out there and did everything correct when taking her out at the Atlantic Highlands Marina, including chocking the wheel with the emergency brakes on. And there you go....

     But for most of my ownership life it's sat under cover throughout the seasons. I went and sold the 175 HPDI engine off of her, as it was an older, finicky, and hard to find parts and anyone to work on it type engine, and the radar tower is gone. It's pretty much a shell of a boat that is ready, like I am, for the next, and maybe final chapter of her life. Soon I will be dropping Donnie Jones a letter telling him the story of me, my history with JB's dating back to 2011, and the story of Jim's boat. I'll need his guidance on what to do and who to do it to get her back, and recreate that picture of Jim with the boat in 1996. But the one will be of me, probably in 2027. 

     My Suburban doesn't have the tow bar installed so my brother had to come over and move the boat so I could clean her up and get her ready for the ride. Before I go I'll be bringing her to a trailer place to have it lubed and wired up and safe for the trip south. In the meantime a pressure washed bath is what was needed yesterday. 

     Even with the boat cover and tarp stuff from the trees made its way underneath. As I did this I couldn't help but picture Jim looking down shaking his head, disappointedly, that this is what had become of his beloved Jone's Brother's 19'10" Cape Fisherman. But like I told Laura when I made my final payment, "One day she'll be as good as new again". 

Shakedown trip with Rob Yaskovic, December 5 2011

     I won't go into my Jone's Brother's history but I have one. It dates back to Dave Choinard and The Fly Hatch. It continued over the years meeting donnie Jones at The Fly Fishing shows where he used to bring a boat up from Morehead City, NC. Just about all my friends, well you know how I hate that word- more acquaintances, have had JB's. Choinard, Eidman, Dapra, Hoblitzell, Shave, Tondra, Muholland x 2, Ferraro, and now Sciortino and Nicosia. I'm sure there's more but it's 0452 and my mind is already racing. I bought my first in 2011, sold it in 2019, and then took possession of Jim's boat in October 2020, making the last payment a few years later. 

     So, like I planned six years ago, this is what I'd like to see happen. Get a new trailer. Remove the bottom paint. Replace the metal gas tank. Fix the spongy deck. Get her rewired. Mount the trolling motor. Repower her with another Yamaha 150. Leave or take off the Bob's Jack Plate, have to do some research about the benefits with that in skinny water vs the added ass-end weight, and reinstall the poling platform. Jim, of course, went ahead and removed the stock platform from the rear, and designed and built a better one. 

     He kept the pieces to it in the barn and when I went to try and figure it out, yet again, my small mind couldn't, so all it went into the metal recycling pile. I love this guy, but he killed me at every turn when it came to this boat. So I'll be looking to reinstall an original platform, and my friend Captain Paul Eidman has just what I need. He's been my JB's guide and mentor since 2011. It was with Paul that I took his Cape Fishermen up to Connecticut to have the tank switched out and some deck work done. He went and repowered and went to a 200 HP Suzuki, which has higher headroom. So he had to remove the casting platform that covers the engine.

So his old one is waiting for me and to take the ride down to North our South Carolina, wherever Donnie says we should drop the boat off for it's makeover. 

     And then I wondered, "Am I meant to begin the new chapter of my life restoring the boat on my own?". I'll have, God willing, The Shrimp Shack, and that glorious space to work on it down in Ridgeland, SC. How hard could it be?

     I could just see her backed in there with a big fan on me as I take her down to the bare bones and start from scratch. But in the end it'll only take me five years, way over budget, and probably done half-assed, and of course not 100% completed. In the end she'll probably leak or short out or something. But isn't that how I roll? Maybe, finally, for once in my adult life, I will let someone else do something, and do it right, from start to finish.

06.23.26 Alrighty, one last nursing school related post...

      Well the Capitol Health School of Nursing chapter of my book is now complete. One year and done. Great kids, great hospital, could be a great nursing school, and it will be one day. But for now I'm done. From labs, to lecture, to clinical rotations in long-term care, med/surg, the emergency room/trauma center, to inpatient psych, and the Trenton State Psychiatric Hospital, it's all been a hoot. 

     Yesterday was our last day in the class room and the kids sent me off with a bang. One thing is for sure, it's really nice to be appreciated and remembered. It was a little over a year ago when kids from Essex County College sent me off with a similar gathering. What's funny is, 

both groups hung banners that said, "Congratulations Quitter". I don't know how that happened. I'd like to think I didn't quit on any of them and I know I worked hard in helping them help themselves navigate through nursing school and into practice. 

     When I told the kids yesterday I had been wearing the same t-shirt for two days, because stuff is either packed up or in the laundry, they quickly said, "No worries, we can fix that". One student has a $20 a month subscription to ChatGpt and below is what she came up with.

     While the above is funny, it's also scary where all this technology, like AI, is taking us. AI is like ADHD. The brain is moving faster then the body can keep up with it. So while we are enjoying things like the above, the machines are running 24/7 and will one day control, or short circuit everything. The next collapse of society will be one big AI computer related meltdown. 

     We are using AI and ChatGpt for everything these days. From patient notes in healthcare, to quick questions and answers, to algorithms for commerce, to tracking and forecasting everyones every move everywhere everyday- it's scary to say the least. But the people who master it will succeed, and will be rich, at least financially, in the process. 

     One day positions like nursing instructors may be a thing of the past, or at least as I know it. Currently, we have moved from bedside instruction to classroom "simulation". It's like having sex with a rubber doll practicing for the big day when you go "live". Not the same by any means. We've replaced textbooks and paper with on-line books and V-Sims. And, we've replaced true nursing educators, like ones with tons of experience, with any Master's prepared nurse who's done with bedside or wants to do the last years before they retire in the classroom. And I won't even get into all of the on-line, virtual, and hybrid nursing programs out there. That's from entry into practice, to bachelors, to Masters, to Doctorate level. Calling someone a "Doctor" who spent a year answering threaded discussions and writing papers....C'mon man, or woman. I'll call you by your first name thank you. 

     By the time I left the kids yesterday my blood sugar was about 800. In addition to a few bagels, some Munchkins, Ronah's cake, I chased it with some chicken and rice and ribs, and then topped it off with some candy. Today I'll try and let my pancreas rest a bit. 

     And after today's final exam it's go time. We might have a little situation with the well water system that needs to be addressed. While we haven't been ingesting E-coli out here for years there's some other stuff we've been brewing our coffee in that we shouldn't have. But unless you get your water tested regularly you're probably drinking the same shit I am. We'll see where this goes starting tomorrow.