Thursday, July 24, 2025 – Day 345

Thursday, July 24, 2025

Good morning!

Masters Tickets Update: If you entered the lottery for a chance to buy tickets to The Masters, this was the week of the big drawing. If you did win, make sure you check your email—and don’t wait too long to claim them. I didn’t win this year 😖 , but I did win two years ago, so I can confirm: real people actually do win. Don’t give up hope. Augusta may still await you.

Now onto doors, swelling, and dignity.
In the winter, I go full “weather-stripping warrior” and seal up every possible air leak around our exterior doors. Which works great… in the winter. Unfortunately, in the summer humidity, all that tight sealing turns into wood swelling and door-jamming.

Case in point: yesterday, I went to open the door from the house to the garage. It has a twist knob, which I can still manage—but when I tried to pull it open, nothing budged. One hand…then two hands…then a full-body tug…still nothing. So I gave up, exited through the front door, and circled around to the garage like I was breaking into my own house.

From the outside, I twisted the knob again, threw my shoulder into it a couple of times, expecting a sudden release to then find me falling into the house and landing hard. Finally, the door popped open and I used the door to keep my balance. I knew we should have put in automatic doors that I could opened with an app on my phone. I suppose I still can.

We had a visit from one of Cindy’s high school friends yesterday—Pat—who came bearing gifts: fresh vegetables, canned goodies from last year’s harvest, and (drumroll…) his legendary potato bread. I’ll be upgrading my formula breakfast with some toast today—finally, a reason to get excited about breakfast again.

Pat stayed to chat for a while and made a noticeable dent in our Twizzler stash—which is good, because I’ve mostly had to swear them off lately. Too much of a choking hazard unless I’m chewing with an EMT in the house. Thanks, Pat, for all the treats and the visit. You’re the produce fairy with a bread side hustle.

We’ve got an airport pickup this morning—our son-in-law Zack is flying in to help us pack the cars for our trip up north. The plan is for him to take one car ahead of us since there’s no chance everything will fit in a single vehicle anymore. Durable medical equipment takes up a lot of space—and some of it is too heavy for Cindy to lift. This extra car will also come in handy when the rest of the family flies in tomorrow.

I’m not entirely sure how both cars are getting back, but I figure we’ll solve that puzzle later. Ideally with a flow chart, a spreadsheet, and someone with a degree in supply chain logistics. The good news? I can still drive. The bad news? I can only sit for about two hours before my butt feels like it’s been tenderized. Gone are the days when I could do a six-hour drive without blinking. Now, I stop more often than a nervous truck driver on his first cross-country run. One stop used to be too many. These days? Two stops or more will become standard. I just hope I can make a hundred miles before I’m forced to find a rest stop.

Looking forward to having Zack’s help today and spending time with him while it’s quiet. If you don’t mind, I’ll sit back and stay out of the way—maybe offer moral support from a shady seat.

Also, Kim dropped off a car seat yesterday, and I’d rather not even attempt to install it. When did car seats become so complicated? I miss the days when you just buckled the thing in and hoped for the best. Now you practically need an engineering degree and a torque wrench.

That’s it for today. Have a great Thursday, everyone.

Love you guys! ❤️