Matt Vertrees

Hey @FedEx @FedExHelp what will it take to get your driver to stop delivering our packages 20 blocks north, changing the address and then leaving snarky comments for us to change our address even though he’s just ignoring the actual address?

@MediawatchNw Yasss. Love it Rob!

Ok, judging by the responses my retirement should now be spent roaming the country buying drinks for my Twitter friends. Think of me as Santa, but with booze. 🥃

@pappybest Even worse over here on the west side! Time to leave the country again 😩

According to AAA sourced by AI from yesterday. Spokane Gas Price Details (Approx. March 17, 2026): Average Regular: ~$4.51 - $4.55 per gallon Average Premium: ~$5.03 per gallon Diesel: ~$5.92 per gallon Week Change:+$0.26 (+6.0%) Year Change: +$0.89 (+24.5%)

@pappybest Ugh! I once decided to go get lunch at the grocery store a 1/2 mile from my house instead of cooking and hit a chunk of motor block on the drive home. Tires had like 8,000 miles on them at the time. Was so pissed 😡

#$*&!!! A glass bottle of some sort rolled off the curb or something while I was waiting at a traffic light. I heard it break as I ran over it. Now, my tire is flat. I hope it can be repaired. I will pull it off and take it to the tire shop in the morning. DAMN IT!

@MediawatchNw Omg. It’s nicer at home than out cruise in the South Pacific right now 😆

Made it back to the ferry and it’s gorgeous out.

@RedKingRuairi75 Totally a thing. I once sunburned my eyes in the snow and couldn’t keep my eyes open for more than a few seconds for two days

Snow blindness?

@mikejwhelan Ugh. So sorry Michael. Went through this with my Grandma last year. She was in the hospital and we left for dinner and when we got she asked us to please get her out of the branding shoot and then was seeing all of my Grandpa’s relatives and was reaching out for them. So hard.

When the Sun Starts to Set By Michael Whelan One of the biggest adaptations I’ve had to make with Rebecca’s advanced Parkinson’s isn’t physical. It isn’t the lifting, or the catheter, or even the showering—which can feel like trying to guide someone safely through a storm while standing in it yourself. It’s time. In the last six weeks, everything has accelerated. And by worse, I don’t mean inconvenient or difficult. I mean anxiety that floods her body without warning. Panic attacks that arrive no matter how good the day was, no matter how much company we had, no matter how carefully the medications were timed. Every afternoon, almost to the minute around 4:15—the shift begins. This is sundowning syndrome. It’s a neurological phenomenon common in advanced Parkinson’s and dementia, where the brain simply cannot tolerate the transition from day to evening. As the light changes, the mind unravels. Confusion intensifies. Hallucinations emerge. Anxiety spikes. The world becomes unfamiliar and frightening, even when nothing around them has changed. Rebecca’s brain reacts to dusk like an alarm. When I see it coming, I move fast. I help her to the bathroom. I brush her teeth thoroughly not just for hygiene, but because routine can sometimes anchor her. I clean her up, talk calmly, and then begin the hardest part of the day: getting her into bed. The physical effort is real, but the emotional weight is heavier. Bed used to mean rest. Now it signals the beginning of her fear. By a little after five, I hook up her portable catheter. That buys us some comfort, some dignity, some peace. Then I sit down on the sofa and try to breathe. That’s when the voices start. No matter the medications, the sundowning takes over. Rebecca begins talking sometimes urgently, sometimes softly to people who are no longer here. Family members long gone. Beloved pets from decades past. Never me. Never her sister. Never the animals who are right in front of her, keeping vigil. Only those who have already crossed somewhere she is inching toward. And the eventu she calls my name again and again. Dozens of times. Not because she sees me but because she needs me. By 5:30, while the sun is still shining through the windows, I’m back in bed with her, holding her like it’s the middle of the night. My arms become the barrier between her and whatever her mind is showing her. Often, she calms. Sometimes she drifts. Sometimes she just rests against me, exhausted by a world only she can see. If you’ve never experienced someone hallucinating because of a neurological brain disease, I pray you never do. It is not poetic. It is not gentle. It is terrifying in a quiet, relentless way. Eventually, she sleeps. Sometimes that requires more sedation. Sometimes it doesn’t. When she finally does, I don’t celebrate. I just exhale. That’s when my day actually begins. Ninety-nine percent of my writing now happens between 7 p.m. and 4 a.m. That’s when I answer messages. Make important calls. Process the day. Try to remember who I was before time became something I feared. I’m usually still in my pajamas by six the next morning when I get up. Whatever she needs, I’m there. That’s the adaptation. Not learning how to do more but learning how to live inside a shrinking window of daylight, where love means showing up before the sun has even finished setting, and holding on long after it’s gone.💙😓

@pappybest We’re in Australia right now and he makes me want to stay…

Well, not watching. Is it as bad as I expected?

@RedKingRuairi75 This is what mine would do. Even though we will both eat like 3 bites 🤣

I asked hubby for some cheese and crackers. Good grief. 🤦🏻

@HMilne57 @RedKingRuairi75 Hollander 🤣

@RedKingRuairi75 A man who never does things by halves! 😃

@pappybest I mean… more days than not 🤣

Have you ever woke up and simply wanted to punch people? Asking for a friend. 😂😂

@pappybest Sure seems more likely every day

Will it happen?

@RedKingRuairi75 Yep! Bought a 9mm a few months ago

@RedKingRuairi75 My absolute favorite 😍

I overheard hubby tell his mother earlier, “Don’t let Ruairí see that bag. Don’t even open it in the house, because he can smell it. That bag will disappear. He loves that licorice.” 🤣😂

@RedKingRuairi1 "THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION TO THIS MATTER!"

@RedKingRuairi1 a-fucking-men

@RedKingRuairi1 "god had other plans" also drives me fucking crazy.

@RedKingRuairi1 Yeah. Charlie was a dachshund. Also susceptible 😥

@RedKingRuairi1 Holy shit Rory. I didn’t know he was a SARDS dog. We lost our boy Charlie last October after 5 years. Little guy waited for us to leave for a trip then went to sleep with his siblings and never woke up. Big hugs. What a terrible disease

@EliMcCann Ugh. I hear that! I had to say goodbye with the last of that generation in April. 3 weeks shy of being 97.

My last remaining grandparent is struggling, and damn, it is so hard to say goodbye to a generation in a family.