Here's the latest picture of Morgan and Kegan, and one of them with their Houston cousins, Braden and Ryan. The latest cute thing said by one of my grandchildren. Megan: Ford, do you have poop in your pants? Ford (20 months) Yes, No, Maybe so.
The neighbors--Susan and Jay, plus Sue, and Jordan and Jacob--came for dinner last night. I fixed leg of lamb as a treat to myself and a thank-you to Jay for taking Scooby for his summer haircut. We visited the garage apt.--everyone approved heartily of the redo--and after dinner we lingered briefly on the porch, because it was so pleasant. Jacob has an enormous crush on Jay, who he calls B. for no known reason, so he was delighted with the company last night, so delighted that he had to go to "Time Out" for jumping on the furniture after he'd been warned several times. He got into his impish, show-off mood, and Jordan came near the end of her wits. I realized though how unbashed kids are about their crushes--they don't know to be self-conscious and embarrassed. I wish we could avoid teaching them. I'm sure Jay is flattered by the attention, and he receives it gracefully.
Jay and Susan stayed on after the others had left, and I asked about his father who was critically ill in the hospital not long ago. His father is better but neither parent is able to care for the other one, and together they are unable to fix their meals, which has led to family upheaval. They are both about 77 and were active and leading their own lives two or three years ago. That frightened me because they're not that much older than I am. We talked about how you stay healthy and active, all talking about what we already know--you have to stay active, physically and mentally, and stay involved with the world. My brother, who may not appreciate my revealing his age, is 76 (I think--he once gave himself an extra year by mistake and it's hard for me to be sure now) and he's active and busy all the time. He owns a small ranch, and he and his wife do almost all the work on it themselves. I have another friend who is 77 and out and about all the time. We tease about the string of women in his life. And then of course there's Charles who at 90 rides his bike ten miles and is excited about going to a week-long fitness camp in the Davis Mountains. I certainly have good examples around me, and I know you don't have to sink into helplessness but I suspect it takes work and will power--and maybe having no one to wait on you so you have to do it yourself.
I recently read a blog that quoted an author--I want to say Sara Paretsky, since she's one of my heroes, but I may be wrong. Anyway, whoever it was said that the years late in life are "a chance to sing." Her advice: "Bee ballsy, make a point, have an interest." I think that's dead on.
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