I went on a walk just a little while ago, and coming from the opposite direction on Diamond Street were three teenagers – two girls and a boy. The boy had reached up and plucked a couple of blooms from a tree along the way and as I passed by, he handed them to me. The girl said, “Don’t give them to her!” I guess sometimes a friendly grin can win out over youth.

Rose is going scuba diving.

I should probably put my orange pants on today because I am feeling somewhat foggy. Wednesday I went to Kingman and came back the next morning . . . and then, when it was 54 degrees, rainy and windy, I went up to Michigan and put out four cemetery pots in two cemeteries. Fortunately, one was near a Taco Bell because I really appreciated the warmth of a five-layer burrito.

Then I got sort of achy and tired.

The next morning was Friday and Der Bingle came and we went out to a nursery and brought home bushes and perennials. Summer planted ferns and hostas and I dug three holes – one for sage and the other two for some already anonymous purple plants. Der Bingle and Cameron pulled out dead trees, put in replacement bushes; then there was the watering and the resultant wet dog. In the evening, Der Bingle and I took a pot up to Mr. Feller’s grave at Lakeside Cemetery.

The next day Alison and I went to the nursing home. I played my usual solitaire games with the ladies at the table watching while we waited for their lunch and continued my week-long losing streak. I gave those cards to Sharon; I am getting new ones. Mrs. Feller said she couldn’t remember anyone going so long without winning. She’s 96.

We ate grilled-out food.

I went to bed early.

I got up today and took two aspirin and a vitamin. I may go for the third aspirin. We’ll see.

A BIT LATER: I AM wearing my orange pants, but I’m still debating on the third aspirin. Maybe I should add a Tylenol instead. Or go for broke with an Aleve.