Every Friday, our new boss at work puts out a question for us to answer in our group chat. Yesterday's question was, "What is your favorite word?"
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| Hey, Dom, you want this back? |
I came up with a couple, including "serendipity" and "obfuscate (oh-so-appropriate in this political climate), but I didn't realize until this morning that I'd missed an obvious favorite: "ephemera."
And yet, here it is, all around me. Is it a polite word for "stuff"? Perhaps. All the same, Mr. Ginley has been enjoying himself as he pours through 33 years of "ephemera" that have accumulated in this house. That's just his stuff, mine will be sorted out later.
Otherwise, things have been blessedly quiet here. Mr.'s knee has been coming to the party as of late, so he's getting better at standing, which is totally clutch. His shoulder seems to be more responsive, too. Fingers crossed. But alas, nothing new with his vision, although he's taken up his crossword puzzles again, which keeps his brain going.
He's also finding work-arounds. I set up his phone so he can do voice-activated Google searches. He loves it. I love it because it means I don't have to be the one to get answers for him.
Also in the "love" column is the new remote for the lamp by his bed. Now, I don't have to turn off his light during my 2 a.m. romp to the W.C.
Today is spa day, so we'd best get started. Later, we'll venture out to get food and take a drive through the park. Trying to air out Mr. before the cold weather sets in and we have to hunker down.
Which will be all too soon, I fear.
