Grandpa's sugar is 186 and he's still eating a huge mess of grits for breakfast. I told him if he went into a coma I'd leave him on the floor, and he said, "That's fine, you can shoot me twice, too, and make sure I'm dead."

Yup, that's my stubborn old bastard of a granddad. You just gotta laugh.

Mmmm, grits. Yes, he should send them to me.

eggs and grits sound good, mmmm. I think I need to go make breakfast.

Informed consent at least. He sounds like a good Grandpa. Also I would like grits.

I had airport breakfast tacos. They were not nearly as good as I was hoping.

But after last nights four hour flight where my overhead light didn't work, well. Fingers crossed it doesn't get worse today.

But after last nights four hour flight where my overhead light didn't work, well. Fingers crossed it doesn't get worse today.

How did you read?

Well, the guy next to me had his light on, and I made the type on my kindle bigger. Mad skillz from under-cover reading as a child?

Oh good. I was hoping for adjacent light or something backlit. Yes, my flight coping skills nearly all center around being able to read. We're Buffistas, it's what we do.

And I love that we all read under the covers or secreted books with us when we had to go places. Family tales tell of me being found happily paging through tabloids behind a couch. The reading material might have been crap, but I had something to read. Should have let me bring a book to grandma's.

My grandma had Peanuts and New Yorker cartoon collections, which were kept on a low shelf for the delectation of grandchildren.

Not being able to bring a book?!?!? Child abuse.

We're watching an opera concert - he's in love with Anna Netrebko. Next up, trip to cemetery to visit Grandma's grave and see her headstone, then a late lunch at the Crystal Beer Parlor. And then I get to run away for a bit and visit with the sane cousin on this side of the fam.