What, you might ask, do I have to show for my first year of retirement?

 

I have Dennis in my life, who nearly exited this life last April, when he had a life-threatening post-surgical infection. He was ill from March until July, during which time our lives were consumed with his medical needs. He’s much improved now, but is coping with chronic pain and fatigue associated with his inherited Mitochondrial Disorder.

 

I’ve had more garden time since he recovered, so the zinnias (see above picture) along the front fence have thrived. The Nicotiana, which self-seeds itself, has filled in blanks in the front garden, a triumph in one of my gardening specialities, benign neglect.

 

Another coup: I sprayed the apple tree twice at apparently critical times, because the leaves have stayed on the tree and the apples weren’t quite as wormy as they have usually been. The soil underneath the apple tree, currently hosting medium size snapdragons, is becoming more lush, thanks to several additional applications of compost, sand and leaves.

 

Realizing that you may be reading this entry because Kathryn kindly sent you my link, I have to note that the feeling between her and me is definitely mutual. She’s kind, intelligent, and has lots of other wonderful attributes, but most of all, she loves my darling son. Amazingly, her name is spelled the same as my mother’s was (we named Paul for my dad,) so even though my parents have passed on, we have another delightful version of Kathryn and Paul in our family.

 

Her family is a gift to us as well. Having grown up in a family of four daughters, I can appreciate the challenges that Kathryn’s mom and dad have faced, but I can also see that their parenting style has been much less manipulative than my parents’ was. I also appreciate how close the three sisters and their partners are; it’s a hoot to be in on a family gathering with them.

 

I continue to appreciate the daily gift of being able to do just what I want to do. The itch to write something, maybe fiction, is nagging me and I salve it with lots of reading. Dennis assures me that there’s something in my brain, waiting to be put into words that someone else would want to read. What that is has yet to be revealed to me.