Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Probably because she always dismissed it as a non-holiday herself, Ol’ Robbo found himself curiously unaffected by this first Mother’s Day since the Mothe’s passing.  (I know at least one person on FB who is having quite the opposite experience.)  Instead, I was able to concentrate on Mrs. Robbo.  The Gels and I took her out to brunch after church and, wonder of wonders, actually were able to have an enjoyable meal together without the usual shillelaghs being pulled.  A good time was had by all.

Meanwhile, coincidentally, yesterday saw the arrival at Port Swiller Manor of three big boxes of the Mothe’s effects, sent down by Sistah.  They proved to be a combination of books, various bits of bric-a-brac, and an assortment of old photographs.   Among the last was a broad selection of grade school and middle school photos of Ol’ Robbo.  Jesus. Mary. Joseph.  I’d complete blotted out the memory of several of them, and was positively astounded at their reappearance.  I always knew I was a dweeb back in the day, but I’d never had any idea I was that much of one!

The Gels, on the other hand, thought them hilarious, and had a very pleasant time howling over them and asking incredulously how I could have been a ginger back then (well, I was) and what I was possibly thinking in sporting aviator-frame glasses (which were a thing in the 70’s, I tells ya’).

Another thing I noticed:  Among the photos were those of my elementary school homeroom classes.  For some mysterious reason, although I have forgotten many other things both more recent and more important, I still to this day remember the names of the teachers for those classes:  Miss Mayshack, Mrs. Boxer, Mrs. Tanner, Mr. Kays, and Mrs. Cook.  Why would that bit of random lodge in my braims, but not something else like, for example, my work computer password (which I have to keep written down and squirreled away in a safe place)?

A strange thing the mind is.