Me and my baby, or my baby's baby or just plain fabulous

I think this is just the perfect hat. And Grandmama wears hats.

Big Daddy arrived back in cattle country, aka India

I wonder if he remembered his hat. They called him B'wana,  with the hat ya know. He is all hat and no cattle unless he stands next to the homeless cattle. Then he is strange dude with the Aussie hat hanging out with the rogue cows.

He told me the airplane food was horrid and he enjoyed his sandwiches. The guy next to him was jealous of his food.

I know he remembered his handkerchiefs because last time he really got tired of sweating with no wiping off the brow cloth.

We are blessed

Big Daddy just left the dermatologist and his scalp defects do not appear to be cancer. Of course the doctor took samples and will send them in for analysis, but whenever a doctor does not jump back and scream it is a good thing. Told Big Daddy to wear a hat-and since Big Daddy is the KING of hats-all is okay today.

I do not want to have a totally downer blog, but to tell the truth the last month has been extremely stressful. No jobs, sick wife, head defects-these things are not good.

Right now I feel better than I have in a long time.

Big Daddy is making white remoulade from the Blackened Out website for dinner and we are using up all the frozen foods we have. It is a time to celebrate.