Plugging Along

This post is being typed one-handed, with the iPod blaring vintage Beatles all in aid of calming Buster who heard thunder and nearly knocked the screen door off its hinges getting in and is parked very close to me with my other hand on his neck. Blowing, dark clouds, thunder, but not a drop of rain...yet.

The cabin is oiled-some parts twice. The "summer house" is redecorated and put to rights after winter, I have re-set some fence posts by my "deck." Progress is being made. The new food regimen is working out fairly well. I feel less, whether I am less or not. Things are getting better all the time according to the Beatles.

My dear little brother rousted the neighbors to come check on me this morning. I had left my cell phone in the van for a couple of days. Days go by without incoming calls and I made my last call from town yesterday. He was wondering if I had been kind enough to write my obituary. He is funny. I guess it is better to have someone to worry about you than not, but if I croak, I will not care about the details- besides I am fine. I am like my vans- high mileage models but still plugging along. I suggested to Rich to try email before calling for reinforcements. I check it several times a day.

"Will you still need me, Will you still feed me, When I'm 64?"