HI, Lad. I'll be 84 on Feb. 13. Trying to get over the habit of wringing my hands as if they are cold, sore from typing, or in distress. Marjory is still fun to converse with but got a hospital bed and Hoyer lift yesterday. (Time out to wring hands for the last time.) Too bad she can't lift enough dopamine to her beautiful-haired head.
To her I read aloud your latest Substack with the journal entries, stopping to hold up the photos.
A couple of times I explained that I had actually written that passage. (Time for another wringing: I noticed dry skin, probably caught from my type of humor.)
Thanks for the beautiful pictures--the last cloud picture is truly spectacular. They are a reminder of your accomplishments and what you bring along with you as you face the future. I tried to find your house on Goose Creek with google earth but could not find it. I would like to see if there are any changes since you left.
The young people from Austin who bought the place painted it in desert colors. She refused to mow the grass (a precious thing in Austin) so the yard became overun. SHe left, he remains. But storm damage from last Februarys ice storm has overwhemled him and it is much less cared for in appearance I'm afraid.
Fred, I've so enjoyed traveling along with you and your family and my heart breaks as life and change interrupt the flow of the journey. I turn 79 on the 23rd and there changes ahead that are scary to consider. I'll keep reading and following your journey and hope life takes more enjoyable and "liveable" turns.
HI, Lad. I'll be 84 on Feb. 13. Trying to get over the habit of wringing my hands as if they are cold, sore from typing, or in distress. Marjory is still fun to converse with but got a hospital bed and Hoyer lift yesterday. (Time out to wring hands for the last time.) Too bad she can't lift enough dopamine to her beautiful-haired head.
To her I read aloud your latest Substack with the journal entries, stopping to hold up the photos.
A couple of times I explained that I had actually written that passage. (Time for another wringing: I noticed dry skin, probably caught from my type of humor.)
Keep in touch, SubStack or SuperStack.
Randall
We have to see the beauty and the irony and the joy even yet. Keep your eyes open and soar, Angel.
Thanks for the beautiful pictures--the last cloud picture is truly spectacular. They are a reminder of your accomplishments and what you bring along with you as you face the future. I tried to find your house on Goose Creek with google earth but could not find it. I would like to see if there are any changes since you left.
Try this link: https://maps.app.goo.gl/kj3C3TDE551MQCRj7
The young people from Austin who bought the place painted it in desert colors. She refused to mow the grass (a precious thing in Austin) so the yard became overun. SHe left, he remains. But storm damage from last Februarys ice storm has overwhemled him and it is much less cared for in appearance I'm afraid.
the new color makes the house hard to recognize. At least the developers have not moved in, so the general area has been preserved.
Fred, I've so enjoyed traveling along with you and your family and my heart breaks as life and change interrupt the flow of the journey. I turn 79 on the 23rd and there changes ahead that are scary to consider. I'll keep reading and following your journey and hope life takes more enjoyable and "liveable" turns.
I’m with you, Fred. I want to grow wiser and kinder and not just one year older.
Thinking of you - and Ann - as I remember your lives on Goose Creek and celebrate what adventures you will experience in your new life.