Wednesday, March 19, 2025 - Day 218

Wednesday, March 19, 2025

Good morning, everybody.

Tax day yesterday was refreshingly uneventful—no wild returns, no last-minute disasters. A couple of people asked about my cane, and I gave them the honest answer: ALS. I managed to do so without an emotional flood, which was easier since the people asking didn’t seem particularly emotional either.

One person didn’t know what ALS was, and I wasn’t eager to launch into the full breakdown of A-meeee-ō-TROHHH-fic Lat-errr-all Scler-ōō-sis—especially considering my uncooperative tongue, which already struggles with saying “Social Security.” Which I have to say a couple dozen times during the day and I don’t say that well. Average age of our clients is ~74…that means just about everybody has social security. Anyway…I digress…back to my story. If the client opposite me didn’t recognize ALS, I doubted the full name would do much for them. So I went with “Lou Gehrig’s disease.” That didn’t land either. Their puzzled look remained firmly in place. Pride of the Yankees? You know, Lou Gehrig? Nope. I quickly realized I was heading down a rabbit hole and abruptly redirected the conversation back to their tax return. No more questions.

We managed to leave early yesterday—a whole 10 minutes before the bank closed, instead of 5–10 minutes after. The bank manager probably appreciated the break from our usual frantic departure.

Les, a fellow volunteer, gave me a ride yesterday, not because I’m worried about my driving (Cindy might be, but I’m not… not yet anyway), but because it just makes life easier. Cindy loads my briefcase into the car when I leave, and Les handles all the unloading and loading after that. With two computers and assorted supplies, the thing weighs about 10 pounds—right at my lifting limit. Pretty sure that means my days of qualifying for the exit row on flights are over, especially if I’m also requesting early boarding. I’ve made my peace with that loss.

I was up early today, like most days. I was settled in with my coffee when I heard a plunk from upstairs. Oh crap. Bear’s awake. And it’s only 4:05 a.m. I know what that means: potty time.

I braced myself, hoping he wouldn’t rush downstairs. Taking Bear out is a challenge. If I leash him, he pulls hard—hard enough to put me face-first in wet grass. Not ideal, especially if paramedics show up to find me in my skivvies. The alternative is letting him out without a leash, but with all the deer that visit our backyard, that could end with him chasing one into the next county. Neither option is great.

Thankfully, moments after Bear came barreling down the steps, I heard Cindy’s footsteps. Crisis averted. My morning routine could resume, while Cindy handled Bear’s early-morning needs. I felt bad about it, but there’s not much I can do—or at least not easily.

Bear is all business outside. Within minutes, he’s back in the house. As soon as Cindy unhooks his leash, he sprints (yes, sprints) up the stairs and right back to bed. He loves his sleep. He’s got at least three more hours before his usual wake-up time—maybe more now that he’s had this early outing.

As for me, once I send my “daily journal” out then I’ll spend the morning knocking out some tax returns and trying to stay ahead of the end-of-season rush. I have the time, so I might as well take care of the easy ones now.

Today’s photos are of the grandkids, Wyatt and Coco from Monday. I sit by the photo frame, every morning, and they put a big smile on my face as I watch them go by, one photo after another. They are another great reason to get up early in the morning.

Everybody have a great Wednesday.

Love you guys!❤️