Intentions, intentions. It's been almost another whole month since I last posted. Apologies are worthless; I've been engaged in other things.
My dear brother-in-law, who celebrated his 89th birthday on September 30, died on November 11. He had been not in good health for some time, but declined rapidly following a rather vicious lung infection which hospitalized him in October. I was able to visit him briefly in a Hot Springs hospice on the Friday before his death. Our last words to each other were "I love you," and "I love you, too."
I invite you to read, remember, and take to heart the quotation from Henri Frederic Amiel which is on the side bar of my blog.
Tomorrow is also a day.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
The maple tree in the across-the-street neighbor's yard.
Hallowe'en passed very quietly at my place. Having chosen not to lay in a supply of high-octane sugary goodies to hand out, I drew the drapes on the front window and turned off the porch light at dusk and settled down to watch the ongoing coverage of the aftereffects of Superstorm Sandy. My doorbell did not ring even once. That's not surprising in this neighborhood since there are only two children of Trick or Treat age living on our block, and they evidently were elsewhere, since I didn't see them out at all.
I am having to enjoy the neighbor's pretty tree this year, since my Japanese Maple, which had graced my yard for at least 15 years, is no longer there. It had been "sick" for a couple of years, with branches gradually dying off. This past summer's drought and terrific heat finally did it in. My son in law worked on cutting off the larger branches a few weeks ago, until his chain saw gave up, leaving on the ugly stub shown below. Pitiful, isn't it? The stump (eventually) will be removed. I have one of my tree's offspring in a large pot, but until I can have the soil tested, I won't plant another tree in this same space.
All that's left of my poor, poor Japanese Maple tree.
My visits to Cardiac Rehab continue to go well. I'm now walking 31 minutes on the treadmill at the (snail's) pace of 1.7 mph, and doing another 10 minutes of upper arm exercises three days a week. All good for me, I know. I hope to convince myself that I need to walk around my neighborhood every day that I'm not at the hospital's facility.
That's it. Tomorrow is also a day.