So what DID Arafat die of? There seems to be a little bit of a tussle over his medical records. I am not entirely sure what purpose would be served by finding out that he had been sent to his maker via poison, or whether he just had some weird ailment. Of course it’s entirely possible that the Israelis came up with some subtle and technically primo method of killing him, but it’s also entirely possible that somebody in his entourage fed him something nasty. Nobody seems to want to believe that he just up and croaked, and seeing as how it’s not entirely clear when he died, and that the medical authorities charged with his care have maintained a discrete and somehow ominous silence, I imagine it will still be a matter of dispute many years from now. They sure buried him in a hurry, just like John Paul I.
I am listening to the comfortable clatter of somebody ELSE doing the dishes, which considering I cooked (Keith mashed potatoes and grated cheese) Roast Beast, spuds, carrots, corn, cauliflower with cheese sauce, gravy, and brussel sprouts for Katie’s birthday dinner, is a good thing.
Katie went out briefly after dinner and is now home and ensconced in her room with her girlfriend Samantha. It’s all very peaceful and domestic.
Keith and John spent the day at the Kung Fu / Tai Mantis tournament in Richmond. They volunteered for various activities and so didn’t have to pay admission. They came home rhapsodizing, and Keith just about slew me by saying, with a straight face, Those cats really WERE fast as lightning, which is pretty funny considering he wasn’t even an idea when that horrible song came out. The grace, the skill, the speed, the athleticism. Sounds like they had a gas. Keith is very happy I advocated for him to go, because had I not, he would have been stuck here all day in the middle of what was essentially an extended remix of a domestic argument. (Don’t ask and I won’t tell). We did take a break in the middle of the day to commit shopping, and frankly I’m glad I roasted beast, because going to the Keg would have set us back about $120, and the roast was only $20. Katie did have a hankering for slabs of cow. And we had leftovers! It was a bizarre thing – her friends dropped by and WATCHED US EAT despite numerous pleas to join us (I had actually been expecting them to eat with us and they didn’t.) O well, anybody who’d rather go into New Westminster for pizza – that’s the mentality we’re dealing with. I will never understand teenagers as long as I live, and I was one. Katie has been witching all day about how “she doesn’t feel older”. Jumping Jimmy Christmas, girl, I feel old enough for both of us.
Just got the latest Frank, and it’s a CORKER. The exchange of letters between Roger Ebert and Conrad Black is expletive amazing, and I must report that Roger did get the last word, and managed to skin Conrad alive in the course of the letter. Very very funny, and of course you can hear the voices of the gentlemen in your mind as you are reading it, which adds to the enjoyment.
Talked to Tish and Tammy today in separate phone calls (obviously). I really wish I could give Tammy a hug, she’s having a rough time. And I wish I could scold a certain somebody, but that would be verbally abusive. Tish seems to be doing great, except everybody in her household is experiencing a mammoth cold. Tish’s youngest and my youngest were born on the same day, so we tend to communicate/commiserate about this time each year.
Picture is something at random.