Ms. Jean

We have a sweet little neighbor in our adjacent townhouse, affectionately known as Ms. Jean.  She's an 80-something feisty little lady who can't see much and can hear even less.  She gets her hair done every week and always wears jewelry when she sits in her open garage at the little table and chairs set that her daughter got her.  Every day, she and Ms. Barbara, the lady across the street, sit at that little table for what Dean and I call "happy hour".  Ms. Barbara brings her glass of rose wine and Ms. Jean drinks what I have always thought was a Tervis Tumbler of beer.  But I just found out what it really is.  The doctor said she can have two drinks a day so every day she pours herself two shots of Rebel Yell bourbon.  For some  reason,  knowing that makes me chuckle.