Rats! and aging--rats again!

The rats are losing the battle. The exterminator was here today, and we figured between us we have removed seven or eight dead rats from my property, enough, he says, for a clan or family or whatever they call them. It was a month, maybe more, since I found the first one in the yard and called my neighbor to dispose of it. The BugStomper, a nice guy named Pat, says I should have called him then, before they got moved in. But the odor is gone, and he says I should be all right until next winter. Then I'll have to do it all over again--but sooner. He says one of those he found today as a "huge" (great emphasis on that word) roof rat.
Tomorrow the tree people will take down a dead tree between my house and Jay and Susan's. It's covered with ivy, and we all think rats are living in the ivy. Pat says I may have more sudden activity because of that, but he's left enough bait that it shouldn't be a major problem. Scooby will go visit Pecos, Jay and Susan's dog, during the day--we're curious to see how they get along, but my prediction is after some preliminary butt-sniffing, they'll frolic and play.
This noon while I was piddling in the kitchen and fixing my lunch I turned on the Martha Stewart Show--I often do--and one of her staff was talking about how she stayed young at 50. She did look good, and I admired her, but I wanted to say, "Humphh! How about working on staying young at 70?" I think the fact that I'll turn 70 next summer weighs on my mind more than I acknowledge. I make jokes about "Wait for the old lady" or something, but I don't feel 70, and I don't want to act it. I said to my children that I so don't want them to think of me as old, and I think it was Jamie, who said, "We don't think that. We just think it's funny you don't hear your cell phone." Megan said, "You're the same old Jude, only older." On the other hand, some body parts--feet--and functions--balance--are failing at a rate that I can only attribute to age. Of course, everyone says staying involved is the key, and I'm doing that, with my finger in a hundred pies at once. My boss said the other day I can never retire, because she'd have a million questions to which she'd say, "Judy would know the answer to that!" It's nice to be needed.
My head cold lingers. I think it takes away my sense of enthusiasm. Then again, maybe it's post-holiday blues. It's not bad, just a niggling thought that I'm not excited about much. And I should be. This spring holds a lot of exciting things in store. So I'm working on my attitude and my balance and my optimism. Can't do too much about my feet except watch the shoes I buy.