(1) MonkSis had surgery today -- partial vivisection of some sort. MonkBroinlaw says all is well and she's resting in ICU before going to her hospital room. MonkNiece probably apoplectic with worry, even though MonkSis is nearly 80% as tough as Monkette (seriously, any tougher, and MonkBroinlaw would cower with fear -- that Monkette of mine is a butt-kicker). Here's hoping she recovers as comfortably, swiftly and completely as possible.
(2) Wongdoer is 40. That happened yesterday and his hair instantly turned gray and his a*s fell off. Actually, in some ways he and I are in as (relatively) good condition now as we were 5 and 10 years ago because he ran (trotted? cantered?) the NYC marathon last year and I take crossfit type classes and walk 1-1.5 miles with a midget on my head every day it's not rainy or frigid. It's our poor wives who feel beaten down and tired because each just gestated a small human until recently.
(3) PaMonk is 80. That happened a week ago. Given that he predates the wheel, discovery of fire and gunpowder (he used to have to hunt mammoths with small spears -- just imagine!), he's in pretty decent shape. He still walks just about every day, endeavors to hit some small pockmarked white ball into small holes from hundreds of yards away with ill-shaped tools designed by liquored-up Scotsmen, and remembers the name of his smartest son (that would be the one who blogs). Thankfully, the old man's only a bit daft (psst: he voted for Obama), but absent a fast mental decline that would cause him to befoul his ballot in 2012, he can attempt to rectify that screw-up.
So: Get Well Soon, MonkSis.
And a belated Happy Birthday to Wongdoer and PaMonk.