Last year on this date about this time, I was getting my appendix out. My body must be remembering the yucky feeling and the pain, because I don't feel all that well today. I called Toby and told him that I was feeling kind of off my feed, but it could just be gas (such an old woman thing to say). He asked if I wanted to paint on the fence today. (Eye blink. Dumb look) Sometimes I wonder if I'm speaking a different language than Toby. I told him "no" on the fence, and that I had only called him to tell him how I felt and that if he came home and I was dead, that it was the gas and yucky feeling.
It is also the anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing. I don't want to ever forget that. Sometimes I think the Media has forgotten - like they want to forget Benghazi.