I'm as sick of talking about the white stuff as I am about my recovery, so I'm opting not to regarding yesterday. Instead I'll discuss my day of rallying to Denver and back with my family to have dinner with my 92-year-old grandfather. He's still full of fire as ever and yesterday was no exception. Mom, Matt (step-dad) and Brandon (bro) piled into the gas-hog and drove the emerald three hours to take Gramps out for lunch in celebration of his birthday and Father's Day. After a mediocre meal at Elway's and a session of talking on a microphone so not to have to scream at him, we dropped him and his lady-friend back at the assisted living palace for an afternoon of gin rummy. Without fail he complained about the waiter, ate only fried food and picked around everything green. There's not much to challenge for the fact that he was a cardiac doctor his entire life--and besides his hearing--is in damn-near impeccable health for his fragile age. A Home-Depot stop rounded out the city visit, and we were back in Steamboat by mid-evening. I feel so lucky to get to see my grandfather so often and can only hope I get to live the duration of life he's been able to enjoy.