Dad at 85

Dad's birthday dinner was very nice, except for the horrible bit where Lois got her purse stolen.

I also had a bizarre auto-trance moment where, against all odds, and basically after I'd given up looking, I suddenly got up, went to a drawer full of junk, and instantly laid my hands on the missing safety-deposit box key.

A much less difficult visit than I anticipated, and for that I'm grateful. Not to say it was entirely without stress: I did spend my last 45 minutes before leaving lying on a couch trying to doze off a migraine.