"It's like Prohibition, only with incandescent lightbulbs..."
Not often that I quote myself in an entry header, but I've been muttering that all week, due to incandescent light bulbs being banned as of January 1st. I detest those curlique florescent bulbs because my super-sensitive autistic ears can hear them *whining*, and the LED bulbs and the halogen bulbs cost an arm and a leg. Thus, everybody and their mother was in the store where I work on Tuesday, buying incandescent bulbs. Which reminded me of the scene in the pilot episode of "Boardwalk Empire" where people are buying up the last bottles of booze they can find on the shelves in Atlantic City. And which prompted me to say the line in the entry header.
So, my New Year's Eve was tiring, due to work being a madhouse, between people buying stuff for their New Year's Eve parties, and buying stuff for the snowstorm that hit yesterday. New Year's Day was rather quiet, since my dad had to work that night, tending the boilers at the greenhouse.
Took a short walk in the lighter snow yesterday, to get my paycheck, then my mom and I trudged out in the heavier snow to go to the post office (no running errands today as it was predicted to be bitterly cold -- which it was).
Then the sad news came: "Mick"'s sister "Sue" called to tell us that Mick had passed away quietly that morning, in his sleep. At least he went peacefully, and we're relieved that he's out of his suffering (hopefully), but it still leaves a hole in the landscape, one that only he can fill. It was as if he had hung on until the new year, then lost the battle due to hanging on so hard. Not sure when the funeral will be, but I will be attending with my dad: the crazy old fool was like a wacky uncle to me, and though I hadn't seen him since he moved up to Maine, I will miss him.
So, my New Year's Eve was tiring, due to work being a madhouse, between people buying stuff for their New Year's Eve parties, and buying stuff for the snowstorm that hit yesterday. New Year's Day was rather quiet, since my dad had to work that night, tending the boilers at the greenhouse.
Took a short walk in the lighter snow yesterday, to get my paycheck, then my mom and I trudged out in the heavier snow to go to the post office (no running errands today as it was predicted to be bitterly cold -- which it was).
Then the sad news came: "Mick"'s sister "Sue" called to tell us that Mick had passed away quietly that morning, in his sleep. At least he went peacefully, and we're relieved that he's out of his suffering (hopefully), but it still leaves a hole in the landscape, one that only he can fill. It was as if he had hung on until the new year, then lost the battle due to hanging on so hard. Not sure when the funeral will be, but I will be attending with my dad: the crazy old fool was like a wacky uncle to me, and though I hadn't seen him since he moved up to Maine, I will miss him.