The bee's knees

I wish the topics covered here were the end of any given subject, but some drag on and on.  For instance, my son's broken leg, caused by DS stepping backward off the tailgate of a big box truck while wrestling with 8 foot tables.  There were weeks of post surgery therapy, and now weight bearing  for short trips.  We are trying not to ask him to do all the things he did before, but he is so good natured, he doesn't complain  and there is so much to do before winter.

For example, sealing the driveway.  We had a lovely asphalt driveway installed last year, with specific instructions about NOT using salt or whatever to help when the driveway is slippery and new.  So, only kitty litter.  This year we can use salt, once the driveway is sealed.  We contacted someone to do this, but they never even submitted a an estimate, only measured the size.  So, we did it ourselves for around $XXX, that's the cans of sealer and a squeegee, and the cost of two sets of  clothes that went in the trash immediately after use.  It looks nice.

We found a small engine repair place for working on the Powerwagon.   It is 40 miles away, but we will give it a shot, we must have the wagon to clean the stalls this winter, when it is too cold to leave the beasts outside.  We need to get shavings delivered too, but for now just having the wagon for stall cleaning would be heavenly.

I have put this off and filled this post with trivia to avoid having to acknowledge my loss.
We were planning to go to see my aunt and uncle this weekend, but it didn't work out.  I feel especially bad because my uncle died on Saturday; they life-flighted him to
Charleston and he died en-route.  I can hardly give credence to the thought he is gone; it was my aunt who has been in hospice care and bedridden  for weeks now.  We went to the viewing/funeral , and not only were we the youngest, we were the only direct relative to attend; the rest were church members, etc.  In all, there are 3 cousins who couldn't come.  I felt very strange, he looked much younger than 85.  He died on his birthday.  I find I myself thinking of all he did as the youngest of his generation.  But what I mainly remember is when we hugged as we were leaving and he whispered, "I love you".  There aren't many left to say that to me.

Thought for the day:  "If nothing ever changed, there would be be no butterflies."