Don’t Grow Old

It’s been a slow morning.

Got back from walking the dogs and sat down to send a group email about a friend’s wife dying. They are an older couple, and she had some sort of operation that went pear-shaped.

I’m at an age now where this sort of thing happens more frequently than I’d like.

So I started a pot of tea and sat down.

Why is my fly open? And how long has it been that way? All during the walk? Crap.

I’m at an age now where this sort of thing happens more frequently than I’d like. Lucky, I use a fanny pack turned forward to store treats and dogshit bags. Didn’t run into anyone anyhow.

So I sip cold tea as I wait for new pot, while typing.

When I’m finished the email I take my cup out to the kitchen.

Wait. There’s the cup from this morning already on the counter. I’ve been sipping yesterday’s long cold cup left at my desk.

Crap. I’m at an age now where this sort of thing happens more frequently than I’d like.

Clearly off my game today, I need to find something to do that’s hard to screw up.

I went shooting with the boy yesterday, and need to clean my .44.

Good Start. First of many small projects I can do that will keep me out of trouble.