Air. It’s a delicious sensation, breathing. I’m getting better at it every day.
It is so good to have the Trail Boss back on the ranch. Mary Ann is recovering nicely, more like her old self and in some ways, even better. Her attitude is totally positive. Like me, she’s grateful for every breath–this round, quitting smoking is something to celebrate, withdrawals and all, not suffer through.
My deck-garden is taking off–I’ve even got Swiss chard planted out there. Onions, too, though those haven’t broken through to the surface yet. The green pepper plant is forming tiny buds, the tomatoes are thriving, and the herbs, well, I’m already able to use those. My mint plant is a special favorite–I make tea from the leaves, adding some lemon balm.
Sadie is under 32 pounds, and doing great. (Although she’d tell you, without your even asking, that I’m starving her.) Beagles, it seems, are compulsive overeaters. They don’t have to be hungry–they will eat until they burst.
In closing, a few words in remembrance of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett.
Jackson was a big part of my daughter’s childhood. Wendy loved “Thriller”–and so did I. Whatever the allegations, his talent was truly remarkable. I imagine Wendy feels the same way I did when John Lennon was killed–bereft.
Farah Fawcett had a lot of us (who were young in the 70s) layering our hair and trying to toss it back over our shoulders the way she did. She fought a wicked disease with courage and shared her strength, even in weakness, with as many other people as she could in that recent documentary. It would be a pity to remember her for her beauty alone. This lady, my friends, had guts.