One Month and Counting

I just realized today is the 22nd. I've been 60 for a month now. And it's going pretty damned well.

I went on a week-long vacation with the boyfriend-of-six-months and we didn't have one fight. (Well, to be fair, neither of us is a fighter. We're both non-confrontational peaceniks.) I am a month further into the new job and a month less ignorant. I learned that I have a torn left medial meniscus and am facing something like lots of physical therapy to my knee or knee surgery. I've survived a month of worrying about my mother as she trods along slides down what appears to be the road to her death. I received and accepted a job offer to serve as the accompanist for the Stambaugh Chorus.

Ups. Downs. Life.

I'm settling into being 60, and life is good.

If you're worried that you're not hearing from me, it's just that I'm too busy. And isn't that a good state in which to be?