Katy is coming in a week. Katy is my fourth child and fourth daughter. It doesn’t seem possible it is already two years since I’ve seen her. At that time I visited Katy and her family in Indiana on the occasion of Brian’s graduation from Ball U.. I cannot remember the last time Katy visited me here. Have to get the house and yard in order so it won’t look like I’ve neglected everything big time. Have to figure out what I’m going to feed the child. Though she’s well into her fifties she is still my child, and she’s been away long enough so that I don’t know what she likes to eat!

This momentous event requires a moratorium on blogging. So much to do, so little time. If we have a few dry days in a row, I’d like to paint the porch rail. Actually, it seems to me more substantial than a rail and probably it has another name, which is not coming to me. It surrounds the porch and the columns that hold up the porch roof rest on it. Whatever it’s name it needs painting.

There was a doctor appointment yesterday and a dentist appointment scheduled in the coming week, not to mention a lunch this Sunday and the usual prayers at the abortion mill each Tuesday and Saturday (the killing days). The doctor asked me how I’ve been and I told him “same old, same old. My walking is worse, my balance is worse, my back aches if I’m upright too long.” How are old you now, said he. 85 I said. Doc, who is about 15 years younger than me, explained that he used to be able to just walk downstairs with his dogs and finds that now he has to look to see where he is putting his feet. “I feel insecure if I’m up on a chair,” I said. “Don’t get up on chairs, “ he said. “Delegate. We don’t want you falling and breaking a hip. When was your last bone density study?” And so it went. Blood pressure, which tends to be labile, was just fine at 126/75. Time to get some blood work done. “See you in 4 months.”

I found a watch in a potted plant on Main Street a few days ago. At first glance it looked a lot like a Rolex and I wondered if it had been stolen and stashed there. On further inspection, it turns out to be a Paolo Gucci (!!), not at all expensive, with a Japan quartz movement. It also doesn’t work. With all I need to do in the coming week, I probably won’t take the time to see if there might be a battery available somewhere to make it run.

My baby birds (? sparrows) have hatched! The mother flies away each time I water the hanging verbena where she built her nest, but keeps on coming back and mothering. Bunny is doing just fine, growing fast, like adolescents do. The fig tree loves this wet, warm weather and is over two feet tall, pretty good since until the first of June I thought it was dead.

The yard and gardens require an incredible amount of weeding. “Growing like a weed” is not an idle figure of speech. One day, no weed. The next (or two days later) there are weeds two feet high. It’s a jungle out there.

My ex-son-in-law’s grandmother, Rena, died a couple of days ago. She was 105. (I figure that might give me another 20 years. Too bad we don’t share the same genes.) Rena and I have been corresponding for years. She could still write legibly and made good sense. She loved Jesus and always wrote about how good he was to her. Her greatgrandson tells me over the last two weeks she was telling people that Jesus was coming for her. A funny thing happened the day after she died. Following morning mass I stayed for the rosary, which is something I don’t usually do, but I was taking my car to have the air conditioning looked at and I had some time to kill before the garage would be open. I met a new gal in the rosary group, an Asian of some sort. And what was her name? RENA! How many Renas do you know?

Conceivably, some folks reading my blog might be more interested in what happens in the daily life of an 85-year-old rather than what that same old lady thinks about everything from abortionists to zealots. They might like to know that when I have to get up during the night I thank God that I’m not dizzy (having had some episodes of vertigo in the past), that nothing hurts much, and that I can stand almost erect. When I get up in the morning, I am glad to be hungry and to have plenty of food on hand, to know that if I want to go someplace I don’t have to ask but can go on my own. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have constant pain, or to have to ask someone to take me wherever I’d like to go. I can’t speak to these things. They may come later, but thank God, not yet.

I LOVE to go outdoors and watch the petunias and the fig tree grow. Petunias in flower boxes are a whole new experience for me. As for bunny, he doesn’t find the tomatoes tasty so there are green tomatoes the size of walnuts. All is not lost! Basil is OK, parsley trying to come back, one pepper plant lives. And when the temperature outdoors is close to 90, as it has been for few days lately, I am happy to go into the house where my one air conditioner provides one cool room, and there’s a bathtub with plenty of cool water to refresh me. It’s a good life. And Katy is coming! A mother of many was once asked which child she loved the most. She had the perfect answer: The one that’s sick until he’s well. The one that’s away until she’s back.

This post is a sample of what my blog would be like if I didn’t think I had to tell the world what’s wrong with the state it’s in. Feel free to vote for more such ramblings – they don’t take nearly as much time.

Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger, you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go. John 21:18