My parents claim no recollection of the events described in my last post.  In fact, they've gone so far as to call me a liar and say that they never threw Joe down the stairs while he was encased in plaster.  I say, ask Joe what he remembers.  After all, the folks are getting up there in age...they're still pretty spry, though.  I called them today to ask if they wanted to come into town and walk around the lake, as it was 50 degrees and pretty darn nice out.  Mom really wanted to walk but couldn't come in as she had too much work to do; they had invited our old parish priest over for dinner.

 Fr. O'Gara is a good man and has forgiven Mom for that time when she stabbed him.

 

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