What would I do without My Joan? She's always here for me 200%. That figure includes 100% for Johnny Ray who tags behind Joan and me to make sure we're doing okay. I've never seen his face without a smile - his gigantic whiter than white Chiclets teeth are a beacon of happiness. I adore this man. Hey! He calls me Babe with nary a hint of flirt. He's a smile maker.





I've posted this photo of Joan & Johnny Ray before. Though she and I laugh a lot, the moment Joan sees a camera, a smile can't even be bribed.

Joan comes by every single day to check on me. She runs my errands, which I worry will run her ragged. Hindsight, I didn't realize how much running around I did. Like sleight of hand, sometimes her comings and goings are undetected as I rest. I rarely nap, but lie down for an hour or so to recharge. I'll rise and know she's been by because a stack of mail or refilled prescriptions are on my desk, or groceries stowed, and oftentimes they'll be a home-cooked meal on the counter - still warm to the touch, cozy with love.

When Joan helps me with the housework (Okay, okay! I don't do a damn thing anymore), I enforce a coffee break. I confess that largesse isn't my motive. I simply enjoy conversation with Joan. She tickles me sometimes with a nugget or two of gossip. I know it's pretty juicy stuff and get all wrapped up in the details though I haven't a clue who or what she's talking about. It's small town stuff, nothing mean or ugly. We laugh ourselves silly. She'll tell stories about Tubby and Hamper and Ruby Lee and Barrel and Dooper and Billy Wayne. OMG, you'd LOL, too!


*****


I was a bit sad this weekend. David & Olivia's engagement party was hosted in Washington, DC - a beautiful event for a beautiful couple. It wasn't the party so much that tugged at my heart... it was about missing the opportunity to be with people I enjoy a whole lot. *sigh*

Now that I'm hooked up to three 10LO2 concentrators, mobility has pretty much been deleted from my days. My lungs require 26LO2.

I miss my community of friends at Morton Memorial. I miss taking notes during Amanda's sermons. I knew if I didn't take notes that her words of wisdom would seep away.

I was alone this weekend in my home, and most my friends were off the mountain. The isolation was a little worrisome, but I kept busy, which diluted any concerns I might have.


*****


Johnny Ray set up three mouse traps on my screened porch where I've now arranged my studio. For years I've patiently allowed a small family of mice to set up house in the repurposed dressers. I've even allowed them to gnaw at beautiful tapestries brought back from Mexico. GRRRRR. But when they started to chew on my Lady of Guadalupe throws I decided enough was enough! With my reclamation, traps have been set - the type of traps that go SNAP! Yeah, yeah, yeah... I know - I'll go to hell.


*****


Ahhh, yes, and then there are marvelous conversations with my children. One of my children was talking about someone acting like they were *phoned*. I said, "Excuse me... someone was phoned?"

The response was, "No, someone was acting like they were phoned."

My response was, "I don't get it. Phoned?"

The mildly exasperated response was, "Sierra, Tango, Oscar, November, Echo, Delta."

My response, "OHHHHHH."

Um, well I guess you know who I was talking to.



*****






I talked with Malcolm this weekend. He's my youngest grandchild. I told him I'd be honored if he would roll my wheelchair down the aisle at David & Olivia's wedding in September. I was so pleased with his enthusiastic response.



*****



But back to My Joan. She works hard. She's my age. She has deep white scars on her chest from heart surgery. Yet with all the doing she does, she still believes in fixing a huge Sunday dinner for family. Her brother drives up from Chattanooga and nephews and nieces trickle in from around the mountain to gather at her table. It's not a Top Chef event... it's much much better than that. She prepares honest, home cooked country foods. After fussing around the kitchen with chopping and stirring and simmering, she sets up parcels of each course to deliver to me before they sit down. Joan inspires me more than she'll ever know... or understand. She doesn't think she does anything exceptional for me - it's how people do in small towns - they take care of their own. It's how it should be no matter what size the town is. I am the luckiest woman ever ever.

Thanks for stopping by.

Love.