I have been AWOL for a while due to some family situations, so I have some updating to do. First of all, I’ve always posted a lot about Mother. She is fine at ninety-two. We avoid getting out because of corona virus, so it was a treat to go blueberry picking a few days ago. We only saw a couple of other pickers far afield, as happy to avoid contact as we were.
The sky was a pure, crystal blue and mountainous, cottony white-clouds transformed above us. Had I been nimble as a five-year-old, I would have stretched out in the grass watching clouds change from horses to gnomes, to a covered wagons. Six decades certainly interferes with the pleasure of prolonged cloud performance. A slight breeze brought welcome comfort in the Louisiana heat as we lounged with lemonade at a picnic table shaded by a giant oak.
I do believe this cloud was working up to the Pillsbury Dough Boy.
Mother still works in her yard almost every day. She comes from long-lived stock. Her grandfather lived to ninety-six, before succumbing to stubbornness. He might still be with us otherwise. He had a numb leg from a Civil War injury. An iron bedstead did him in when he hung a toe on his iron bedstead heading outdoors to the toilet, tripping and cracking his head.. A brain bleed did him in four days later.
