03 August 2016

Monkeying around

Button Museum, Bishopville, SC
I was talking about blood donations with one of my volunteers at lunch today. The folks at my table were comparing bruised arms from needle sticks and I am always slightly ashamed that I don't participate in blood drives. I never have.

I am a generous person and try to do what is called for to help someone in need but I have always feared I would have to check off every alert box in the donation screening questionnaire. Have you lived overseas - yes. Travel - yes, India and more. Hepatitis - yes, as a child. Had a pet monkey - YES!

His name was Esau and he was the coolest. He chewed gum, rode the dog like a cowboy, spanked the puppies, wore a doll sized red cape like a super hero and regularly got me out of church with his wicked antics. I would sit with my monkey on the back porch in the evenings wrapped together in a tartan shawl and play a bamboo flute that was answered from dark hillsides across from us. Good times.

Photo below of my father with a couple of our monkeys.


  1. 1. Egads, what a horrifyingly EXCELLENT lamp!
    2. I think you meant "rode" the dog, not "road" the dog... no more tipsy blogging, Joan!
    3. The only picture I have of my father with monkeys was our family portrait.

  2. Thank you! It takes a village to correct my spelling! How did you know it was Salmon & Chardonnay night? Heheh.

  3. What fun they must have been.

    Odds are you'd be medically disqualified. I'm a regular blood donor and the list of questions is quite extensive.

  4. I no longer have to give blood since I got my Pacemaker. I guess they think I've got enough problems, no reason to export them. I guess monkeys don't get huge, like chimpanzees, so they'd be good pets.


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