to the home

You have to picture our back yard.  We have spent hours getting it ready for it's "summer showing".  Every morning, our ritual is coffee, crossword puzzles, dog poop and weeds.  The coffee stimulates us.  The puzzles check our mental acuity.  The dog poop?  Well, we have two dogs, their comfort station is the back yard, we prefer to walk safely for the day, so we do the poop scootin' boogie, followed by a tour of the gardens, deadheading flowers past prime, defying any weeds to show their heads (and they are ALWAYS there!) and into the bucket they go.  Then it's water the pots and we're ready for the day.  Every morning.  Rituals must be observed.  (And I dare you to diagram the complex sentence beginning with "Well"!)  Today is Monday.  That means a trip to the senior center to play bridge (and get our ashes hauled!) and then a stop to see Aunt Edith.  By the time we get home, it's 5:00--we're late for the early bird special, so we fix our own.  Following supper, we sit on the deck, enjoying the fruits of our labors.  Then it struck me.  Cath was rocking, listening to the Twins.  I was rocking, lost in la la land.  We looked just like the stereotypical old farts sitting on the back porch in their rockers watching the grass grow!  I giggled.  Then I realized, we ARE the stereotype!  But oh, it's good to get old!  Beats the hell out of the alternative!  And if I remember to turn off the sprinkler, the grass won't grow as fast!  The key word there?  If!  Revel in the aging process and know you are loved!