The stories they might tell

Every evening I see them walking along our street. His wizen face bordered with lank hair peers out from under a nondescript ball cap. A blue plastic brace is on his right arm, so they walk along the left sidewalk. Her thinning, fly-away white curly locks frame a face without glasses. His wire-rims give him an owlish appearance as he guides her along. Right hand and arm carefully clasps and intertwines with his left as he helps her balance her on the sidewalk. He travels on the street while she is steadier on the curb, making their heads more close to level.

How many years do you suppose they have been taking their evening walk along our street? How long, how many seasons have they seen pass? Neither of them will see 80 again and might well be close to 90.

Guten Aben, we say as we pass, me hiking rapidly toward home while they make their slow, stately progress along the curve, heading downhill at the end toward home.


The Florenz turned up when I cleaned our room this weekend. After fussing around with the pattern for the top and the start of the foot- I changed to simple stripes going down the foot. I like the pattern, but my choice of yarn colours was not good, the texture gets completely lost in the colour changes. Ah well, I could frog, but am not going to. I will do the pattern again on the top of the other sock and call it a learning pair.

Books & Audio Books

Listening to Faye Kellerman’s A Garden of Eden which is a collection of short stories.
On the book shelf is MaryJanice Davidson- Undead and Uneasy. I also have the HP#7 and a few more pages in Hell Hath no Fury to finish.


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About Holly

fiber person - knitter, spinner, weaver who spent 33 years being a military officer to fund the above. And home. And family. Sewing and quilting projects are also in the stash. After living again in Heidelberg after retiring (finally) from the U.S. Army May 2011, we moved to the US ~ Dec 2015. Something about being over 65 and access to health care. It also might have had to do with finding a buyer for our house. Allegedly this will provide me a home base in the same country as our four adult children, all of whom I adore, so that I can drive them totally insane. Considerations of time to knit down the stash…(right, and if you believe that…) and spin and .... There is now actually enough time to do a bit of consulting, editing. Even more amazing - we have only one household again. As long as everyone understands that I still, 40 years into our marriage, don't do kitchens or bathrooms. For that matter, not being a golden retriever, I don't do slippers or newspapers either. I don’t miss either the military or full-time clinical practice. Limiting my public health/travel med/consulting and lecturing to “when I feel like it” has let me happily spend my pension cruising, stash enhancing (oops), arguing with the DH about where we are going to travel next and book buying. Life is good!
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One Response to The stories they might tell

  1. Becca says:

    The very thought that it is possible to make it past age 80 without requiring glasses is amazing to me. A lovely description of them you give.

    I’d forgotten there was another MJD book! Fortunately, my library has it and I’m next in the hold line. It will be a good read for my upcoming trip, easy and entertaining, I hope.

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