As one might have expected, my sister did not last long with that diagnosis. Like the Bear, she passed on within a month, dying July 2. July 1 was That Anniversary and to have my sister follow close behind was a like a hammer hitting me twice. Here I was supposed to be taking time off to prep the house and I didn't get much of that done. I got a cold then which kept me in bed for several days and the remaining time has been spent frantically planning a trip to the States. My sister's memorial is the 17th.

BFB has her own rocky journey. Her blog is here. I couldn't go to the US without checking in on her so I'm doing another rambling road trip that gets me to see a few folks at short notice while probably leaving me flat. I'll be back the beginning of August and this time I don't promise to blog on the road. It's a test drive of my wits and new knees. I did have the very pleasant experience of the dr's receptionist verifying my birth date when I rolled up to his surgery because she couldn't believe the person standing in front of her was the age on my records. I must be doing something right because this happens quite frequently. I guess the fatigue doesn't show, or all the sleeping I do to compensate has other benefits.