I just spent the better part of a week with my cousin Micki. She's 83 -- or is it 84 -- I've lost count. But she is pretty spry for a person her age. I wish I could move as well as she does. Oh, she has aches and pains, but for the most part she does well. She was a little oozy on her feet this past week, and while she was encouraged to use either a cane or a walker, she couldn't be bothered.
I bought her a lot of plants before I left and I know she'll get hours of pleasure out of them, first by planting them, then watching them blossom and grow, and then repotting them when they outgrow their post.
Not all the plants were for her porch, some were for her garden borders. And, yes, she insisted on getting down and doing the work herself. Okay by me.
I found a picture of Micki in her album which I didn't, unfortunately, get to copy. It was a picture of her at our house in Runnemede, with her guitar. I'm sure it was on a Sunday afternoon just prior to church service in the evening when she was to serenade us.
Micki, I miss you already. You are such a cheerful person, and you and I had such a great time, mostly laughing.