For the last several days I’ve been grandpa in residence, getting the kids up in the morning and off to their summer care programs.

I have a pair of leather grilling gloves I have repurposed to become thistle gloves. The invasive musk thistle that I am removing from my grounds is fiercely protective and the gloves are the only way I can handle the thistles as I dig them up. The other day I lost the right glove.

I’m lucky. My drug of choice when I’m down, is yard work. I felt funky the last week or so, laid low by memories of a departed wife and old camping trips.

We had another good rain last night just as I was falling asleep. But these little pop up thunderstorms are deceptive. While I got rain, I’m pretty sure it missed a lot of my neighbors.

Ah, the winds of change. My son who lives with me is considering his own place closer to nature. I’m replacing my 20 year old golf clubs. I sent my big BBQ pit to Houston to live with my oldest son.

Here’s how you disappear from the world. There is a tiny picture on the wall between two mirrors in our bathroom. It is nondescript. It was put there by my late wife.

Got out and about yesterday. Drank some wine. Ate some cake. Sang happy birthday. Played a new tune I wrote. Made some new friends, well acquaintances. We exchanged names and made small talk.

Here’s to the mysterious ways of the universe. We find love, unexpectedly. Children come into our lives. The mower that worked fine four days ago is now a sputtering pile of metal.

I’m putting up the pen for a week. Taking a break. No real reason except it just feels right.

I have a touch of dry eye. An outflow, no doubt, of my recent surgery where I was immobilized for the better part of two weeks. I fell under the lure of the small screen and watched too many videos.

Yesterday I watched the passing of the moon between the earth and it’s sun. And for the briefest of moments the moon outdid the sun, and there was darkness upon the land.

I slept hard and long last night. It was a night of vivid dreams. I still see the fragments of them this morning. I was busy in the night and my dreams were rich with detail.

We went to the viewing yesterday for the recently departed lady who cleaned my home. She was 57. I have no idea why disease claimed her so young. I have no idea if she regularly saw doctors. I have no idea if she had health insurance. Basically, I have no idea how she lived her life.

The lawn and drive are trimmed and tidy. Today, I’ll edge around the back porch. I have no lifting restrictions. The only warning was to avoid prolonged activity that brings me to the point of exhaustion. Fair enough. I think I can do that.

It happened yesterday. I was driving along and felt surprisingly normal. It was if no one had stuck metal catheters into my arteries through my groin and inserted stents into several other wonky arteries.

Home. Made it back yesterday afternoon. It was nice to sit on my couch. Look out the windows. Sleep in my bed.

There’s this thing I’ve been doing lately that I call counting days. I take my current age, add ten years or even fifteen, and try to imagine living to that age. It’s daunting to think about sometimes…

Well, disappointment. Houston lost to Duke in the Sweet 16 last night. A key player went down early, and in a season marked by players going down to injury, it was one injury too many.

Had a bit of sad news . The lady who cleans my house and the houses of several friends is riddled with liver cancer. Today, around 11 a.m. they’ll start taking her off life support.

I suppose it’s inevitable, when you start piling up the birthdays, eventually to start wondering how many more you have left to pile. I know it’s crossed my mind a time or two. But it’s especially interesting to me now that I have a synthetic product in me that has an actual lifespan.