A Yes-I'm-Still-Alive Post

Today I stood for a moment by the orange trees, drinking in the fragrance of the blossoms. Butterflies were darting about. I'm happy to be home after a trip to Orange County.

While visiting my mother at the assisted living facility, I saw one of my favorite ladies, Marge. She was hunched over, moving slowly, her nose bandaged, one eye red and sunken and damaged. She'd had a skin cancer removal, and also some caustic medicine spilled into her eye and burned it. But she's so brave, so intrepid, so lucid and smart.

Marge publishes in the elevator, where her poems and witty musings on aging adorn the wall.

"Keep up your writing, kiddo," she said. "I really think you've got the stuff. I'd like to see you make it in the real world someday."

“This world feels pretty real to me," I said.