If you've been attentive at the Almost the Truth™ Publishing Facebook page this week, you are aware that the mother formerly known as SweaterGal passed from this life to the next in the early morning hours of Sunday, April 11th.
But fear not, friends, yours truly is not overwhelmed by a flood of grief and regret. SweaterGal was just eleven days shy of the 92nd anniversary of her birthday, and she had been longingly waiting for her day of passing since FlatulenceKing died 6.75 years ago.
Pray, think me not calloused and unfeeling upon my mother's departure from this earthly realm. I have shed tears abundant, lo, these few days since. It's just that writing about all that doesn't do much in the way of reaching the stated goal of this blog, "to heal the world, one grin at a time."
Perhaps it would be helpful for you if I listed some of the decidedly distinctive durr-inducing discoveries I've become reacquainted with during our visit to my home state of Indiana, the home of the Indianapolis 500 and breaded tenderloin sandwiches that make a Big Mac look like a cucumber teacake.
- A remarkably large percentage of the population believe the term "face mask" actually means, "chin strap," apparently.
- The middle of a parking space is a perfectly good place for a grocery cart line-up
- The ratio of gun and ammunition shops to population puts even Texas to shame.
- Six inches shy of a trash can is close enough, I guess
- The act of cleansing one's face, dishes, or motor VEE-hickle is pronounced "warsh".
And I don't even want to think about the "Hey, ain't it great we can all hang out together" camaraderie that leads to THIS design for a public restroom:
And now you know why I am the way I am.
Have fun, Mom. See you soon!