Hi Darling Ones,

I had my monthly eye treatment today. The joint was hopping. I’ve been going every four weeks since June? And I’ve never seen the waiting rooms so full.

It was so busy we spent like 45 minutes in Waiting Room B after my eye test and scans. There wasn’t a spare seat in the place, and there’s something like 30 seats in the room.

Because we waited so long, I got learn a lot about Janelle.

• She has five sons.
• She gave birth to one and married into some others.
• She and her husband “adopted two orphans.”
• She’s very concerned about what will happen to her land and houses when she dies.
• It’s hard because most of the land is in her and her brother’s name.
• She owns a townhouse from when she was a single mother.
• She rents it out now.
• She’s attending seminars to learn about wills and probate.
• She wants her sons to be able to grieve and not worry about what they’re getting.
• She also wants it to be fair, even though one son is “special to her” because she birthed him.
• She met her husband when she was a single mom playing piano at church.
• She used to teach piano lessons at Schmidt Music until COVID.
• She taught high school in Orono for 20 years.
• She graduated from St. Olaf in 1984.
• She got her dog from a “reputable” breeder in Iowa.
• Her husband doesn’t like to talk about wills and death.
• She loves playing grand pianos.
• She’s friends with the Schmidt-guy of Schmidt Music fame.
• The twins are going to tour St. Thomas this week because it’s MEA.
• One of them loves science and one wants an MBA.
• She really likes the small, private Christian colleges.
• She loves Doc Severinsen.

For the record, Janelle wasn’t talking to me. Or my mom. Or even sitting near us in the waiting room.

Eavesdroppingly yours,
Jodi

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After everyone was buckled, backpacks filled with stuffed animals for Stuffed Animal Day secured, and we could hear the radio Liam was amazed.

“Are they really playing Michael Jackson on the radio?” he asked.
“It sounds like it.”
“They are playing Michael Jackson for real on the radio?” He was incredulous. “On your radio?”
“Yes they are, I said. “It’s a good omen. That means you’re going to have a good day when your favorite musician is the first song you hear on the radio.”
“I can’t believe they’re playing Michael Jackson on the for real radio.”

The Tibbles listened quietly as I sang along to “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin'”

“What language is this?” Nolan asked as I sang “Ma Ma Sa, Ma Ma Coo Sa.”
“It’s just Rock & Roll jibber jabber,” I said.
“Do you speak Rock & Roll Jibber Jabber?”
“Fluently.”
“Is it a real language,” he asked.
“As real as British Accent,” I said. Yesterday The Tibbles spent all of breakfast trying to convince me that British Accent was, in fact, a language and that they knew it very well. The spent the morning calling each other chap and sport and using the words fantastic, fabulous, and fancy. Also bloody.

We were on our way to Donut Connection to celebrate our last day of the Tibblesitting Season. It’s a long season and though I am sad not to see The Tibbs multiple times a week, I am really eager to spend the next five or six months sleeping in and wearing pajamas 98% of the time. Angry Hermit season is a lot of fun.

But back to Donut Connection, which is quite possibly my new favorite place on Earth. It’s in an old building with uncomfortable orange booths and an orange counter that looks fit for Munchkins, but the donuts are absolutely delicious.

Today when we walked in, Liam surveyed the donuts for sale. As visions of chocolate iced rings and glazers danced in his head, he let out a yelp of alarm.

“Oh no!” he said. “They are out of old fashions.”

Old fashioned are my favorite of all the donuts in all the donut lands. I will take a plain old fashioned over a cinnamon roll or a Krsipy Kreme or any sort of fruit-spooj stuffed or frosted sprinkled monstrosity. I like the simple classics, especially when they are done so well. And Darling Ones, the old fashioned at Donut Connection is done well. Very well.

And the donuts aren’t even the best thing about Donut Connection. The best thing is the gaggle of fifty to sixty something men who hang out there taking up most of the booths, drinking coffee, and talking. When we went there for the first time last week, a few of them were talking about the Supreme Court. Yes, the Supreme Court of the United States. How awesome is that? While I didn’t share their worries about it getting to lefty radical, I was still amazed that they were having a vocal, smart discussion about the SCotUS. I bet you don’t hear too many conversations like that at any sort of hipstery or socceer-mommy coffee shops.

Today they talked a lot about the upcoming Vikings vs. Packers football game while one of the regulars grabbed the coffee pot from the counter and offered everyone in the shop if they wanted to a refill.

AND as The Tibbles were in the bathroom washing their hands and faces, I listened as one of the regulars told a story about some dude who was hit by a train.

“He got hit back by C&C Hardwood and the train drug him all the way to Bill’S Toggery,” he said, motioning in the direction of Bill’s Toggery, an actual store in downtown Shakopee. “I went outside to look, and he was driving a big, old Chevy. Like an Impala, and it was U-shaped. The hood was right next to the trunk.”

This conversation was made all the more awesome not just by the guffaws of the other regulars, but by the thick Minnesota accent in which it was told. So awesome.

The post The Tibblesitting Season is over, welcome the Angry Hermit Season appeared first on I Will Dare.

The old ladies at the table next to me, the one with the walker leaning against it, are talking about cancer and chemotherapy and how one of them has to do something about it and quit just talking about it.

The middle-aged ladies behind me are talking about Hilary, Obama, and superdelegates.

The post Typing at the coffee shop III appeared first on I Will Dare.

I know he’s a used car salesman for two reasons:
1.) Memorial Day weekend he had a party where a high number of individuals appeared wearing t-shirts about the HUGE DODGE TENT EVENT
2.) Last night as I was falling asleep/eavesdropping I heard someone say, and I quote, “I fucking sold a Chrysler Sebring today.” I could not tell from his tone of voice whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.
3.) There was also an argument about a Cadillac, this was not a good thing because I could tell from the voices that they were angry.

They generally drink a lot of Lite beer and listen to old 70s rock (witness a few weekends ago when they decided to play “Don’t Fear the Reaper” three times in a row). However, last night, for unknown reasons they listened to annoying R&B with a lot of bass. I waited to be shaken from my bed ala Fred Flintstone by the booming.

It didn’t happen, because I woke up at 7 a.m. this morning delightfully rested. Oh yes, my body has decided that waking up between 7 and 7:30 a.m. is a perfectly good thing to do. I blame it on the birds.

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How can one possibly write when this is going on next to them?

I wish I could hear the two women sitting in the leather chairs behind me. I am betting their conversation is way more interesting and personal than the Investors. But the baseball-capped investor’s voice drowns out the softer tones of the women. Occasionally I hear the word Walmart coming from the leather enclave.

Oh, now the Investors are talking about writing stuff and “understanding the mentality of these guys.” He’s talking about writing little articles to get these guys excited. I can’t figure out who these guys are. Apparently they are guys who need to take steps to successful. Oh they are talking about educational and informational blogs and linking to other blogs.

He advises that she should update her blog once a week. He advises that of all his writers.

Sadly, my posse has begun to arrive and the time to gossip and talk about how I’m still not looking for a job has come.

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