Went to the hills south of town last night to make sure the sun got down okay. It did. No big show. I suppose it would be a bit much to ask for spectacular every night. It was just a slow pleasant disappearance. Then it got dark, and I sat in my car and talked on the phone until I saw a flashlight coming down the hill toward a nearby gate and thought maybe I should get back to town. I did.

The subject of the phone call was meal planning with the mission commander of my next big Starfleet adventure. We’re heading to Big Bend to walk some trails next week. Originally, it was a two-man mission, but things happened and now we’re up to four vessels and seven people, which will make for a lively campsite and more fun, and I think ultimately prove out my theory that the best parties are the ones that just happen spontaneously with people you like.

I also made plans last night for my grandson’s graduation from the University of Missouri in May, and that really seems hard to believe. Because I can still see him sleeping in a little popup tent at the foot of our bed at our home in Alvin. Time slips by you pretty quick if you’re not careful and that was a lesson I relearned in Red River, and I’ve been trying to put it into action ever since. There have been some slip ups and misapplications, but by and large very little grass has had time to grow under my aging feet. I’m moving on down the line.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale