Not So Fast

As I am painting last evening, enjoying the fact that I am back in my studio ( I have been out at the dining room table with the small paintings - not that I don't like being out in the dining room I do - it's just nice to start a large piece ) when I get called to the phone. On the other end was my mother, seems that she has decided that my father needs a wheelchair ramp to get into the house. Now don't get the wrong idea, but my mother has saying my father has days to live for the past 20 years. My dad is not confined to a wheelchair although he did have a lung removed about 10 years ago, and uses an electric scooter to get around outside. It is hard to imagine that he is getting old, in my mind he could still whip my ass. ( he is 75 now and not the guy I used to marvel at how strong he was - He will always be that guy with the bib overalls smoking a cigar 30 feet in the air cutting down some tree in my mind ) So tonight I will go over and see how we can construct this ramp thing, I have stopped by the City Hall to find out about the necessary permits and regulations. So depending on the degree of difficulty of the proposed site( I hoping to talk them into the rear of the house - off the side of a deck - even though this will mean entering the back door) I will be out of my studio again, and becoming my alter ego "Vinyl Boy" , at least for a little while.