Tuesday, August 23, 2016


Sometimes, there is so little I can do when the people who are important to me, are suffering, in ways big or small. 

(I do apologize for being vague; yet their heartaches are their stories to tell, not mine.)

I wish I could just invite each of them to sit and rest a while on the couch with me.

Sometimes, that would be the best I could do.

Sunday, August 21, 2016


Alas, summer has come to a close. Offspring the Third starts school tomorrow.

We spent a little bit of time this evening discussing college plans and standardized testing and such. I spent nearly an hour afterward signing him up for the SAT -- sweet fanciful Moses, the website was thorough. It made me anxious. I can only imagine how Offspring the Third is feeling.

Chin up, Offspring the Third. You are very smart, and very capable, and you will do well. I have every faith in you.

Here's to a good school year.

Tiny Dog is anxious, and Elderly Three-toothed Dog is tired, at the very thought of contemplating college applications. 

Friday, August 19, 2016

Fungus Among'us

The mushrooms in the back yard really are beautiful.

If I had to do it all over again, I might become a plant biologist. Neato.

Thursday, August 18, 2016


Herself speaks.

Offspring the Second is returning to college this weekend. Alas. It has been a pleasure to have him home. He is so very bright, and it is so very interesting to speak with him: he considers his point of  view carefully, always, and presents his arguments in a cohesive, cogent manner, whether we are discussing minutiae or Big Picture topics. I admire his way with words.

He is such a marvelous person. It's a privilege to know him.

This afternoon, we went to the store for snack foods for the trip. Ah, snack foods -- some of the small yet delightful pleasures in life. There is something that always feels bittersweet about snack foods to me, perhaps because there were years when we would go on family trips in the RV, and I was very careful to pick snack foods that I thought each person would particularly enjoy. Now, I so rarely have that opportunity, and the moments are becoming more and more scarce as the Offspring grow up and away.

Alas, for snack foods.

Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Silver Day

Herself speaks.

A quarter of a century ago -- more than half a lifetime ago -- Beloved Husband and I were wed.

The years have gone by in the blink of an eye.

Happy anniversary, Beloved.

A long marriage is two people trying to dance a duet and two solos at the same time. ― Anne Taylor Fleming

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

In the Neighborhood

Herself speaks.

This morning when I stepped out the front door to go for an early walk, there was a path of footprints across the front lawn. What kind of creature passed by? Where was it going? I suspect a neighborhood cat traipsed by in the wee hours, on its way home, perhaps, from a night of prowling.

I took a slightly different route for the walk today. I don't usually go down the hill -- choosing instead to go up and around in the neighborhood -- but I had a purpose this time: I went to check on the crime scene a quarter of a mile down the road at the entrance to the neighborhood. The ambulance was just leaving; a couple of police officers were starting to take down the yellow tape that crossed the road and ran through the park. The "Central Command" van was still there.

We're still not quite sure what happened.

When I arrived home yesterday evening, the police car was blocking off the road, and there was an ambulance and a fire truck. They were still there an hour later when I went to go get Offspring the Third from late band practice, and several more police cars had arrived.. I informed Offspring the Third on the way home about the emergency vehicles, so he would not be surprised by the flashing lights and police presence in the neighborhood.  When we passed by, there was a congregation of people from the neighborhood on a corner adjacent to the scene, all staring, some with smartphone cameras held up. The police were standing about, too. No one was in a hurry.

"Maybe there's a dead body," commented Offspring the Third.

"Though that's not outside the realm of possibility, I think it's really, really unlikely," I replied.

Yet he was right.

The news reports are sparse right now. Apparently, what was initially called in as a "possible overdose" turned out, upon arrival of the paramedics, to be a young man dead from a gunshot wound, lying in the street/on the sidewalk in front of one of the houses nearest the small park at the bottom of the hill. None of the news outlets have mentioned anyone hearing a gun. It's all very strange.

Was this young man shot here? Dumped here? By whom? And why?

Who was it? The news outlets state "a young man in his late teens or early 20s." Is it someone that Offspring the Third knows from school? Or that Offspring the Second knows? Both of them are within that age group.

I asked them to stay home at night for a little while, until we know more. Just because.

Godspeed, young man, whoever you are. You passed through, another unknown creature leaving footprints across the neighborhood. I am sorry that your end was a violent neighborhood spectacle, instead of a quiet slipping away, holding the hand of someone you love, half a century from now. Rest easy, and may you find the peace that eluded you here on earth at the end.