Your little friend Vicki is still in a tizzy about her hair loss. She saw the dermatologist (did I tell you that already?) and all he could recommend was minoxidil. I have no interest in that. Obviously, it ain’t gonna grow back. Since I am a senior citizen with no social life, why do I care? No woman is happy when her scalp is visible!

Then last night I got all riled up about the DOJ being so slow about indicting “He That Knows Nothing But Criming.” Since I live in Georgia, I pray that Fani Willis will be the first to convict him.

Yesterday Rob drove me to the oral surgeon and he pronounced the implant ready to be crowned by my regular dentist. He is booked solid for the next five weeks, so I have to wait on that.

What I am saying is that I am not perfect! All the years of studying and writing can still not make me feel good about my hair. And now you know.

Rob made Tortellini in Mushroom Sauce tonight and I enjoyed it. While we ate, the heavens opened up and it stormed something awful. The guy across the street had a crew breaking up his old driveway before putting a new one in. As the rain fell, I could see them hurriedly putting plastic over everything so that mud would not run down the street.

Oh, yeah, we had a lovely meal out at The OK Cafe after I saw the oral surgeon. It is such a wonderful place. I had fried chicken, mashed potatoes and lady peas and there are still leftovers. It is close to the oral surgeon’s office and attracts a well-to-do crowd. The rich look different from you and me. Even their casual dress reeks money. In the backroom while I always request to be seated (and there is a wait-time for it), there is a money tree in the middle of the room. I like it because in the front part of the restaurant the tables are closer to together, diner-style.

Nothing spiritual to share today. Just a slightly depressed almost eighty-year old jumping the track of “I am” and being impossibly herself.

Vicki Woodyard