So My Fucking Mother talks about some property tax relief plan for poor seniors who own a house they've been in a long enough time because my uncle has something like that in Pennsylvania, and so she wanted me to look it up.  But there isn't one; there's only a tax deferment program.

So I tell My Fucking Mother, except that she tells me to tell My Fucking Father, who's watching some Met opera on public television.  I tell him, and he says ... well, I think that dumb motherfucker said no, that's not it, there's a different program.  And he said it like he had already looked it up or something.  No, I replied, there is no other program -- this is the only program Minnesota has.  And he said fine.  And I walked away and waved my hand at his dumb ass while I did.

That was the stupidest conversation I had with that old man in a long time.

If it weren't snowing outside right now, I would either be out for a long walk or I would be taking my car and heading toward Iowa.  I have to start leaving the house for a few hours on the weekend.