Adam Blatner

Oh, my, getting older, approaching age 78. For a moment I forgot the name of my last kitty who died in 2001, the same year that my oldest grandchild was born. I remembered our first kitty’s name, and second kitty, but Allee had to remind me of the third and then it was, “Oh, yeah.” Time is flying. I was appalled — but only a little. Nudges of aging are accumulating, in spite of the many ways I’m vigorous and learning new things. It’s an odd combination. Certain parts of my body aren’t working as well as certain others, and I suspect this trend may continue.

A little slower at folk dancing, too. Still picking up tango steps, though. Instead of look what I can do it’ look what I can’t do as readily as I used to. Interesting how it comes ‘round. Most things I’m as good as ever. Some things even better in that I can put them into a wider or longer-range perspectives! But a certain degree of melodiousness to my singing voice is on the edge of passing away and I heard it while singing in the shower. More on this topic as it impresses itself on me.