Sunday started out as a typical day for me. I rose before dawn, tied on my Chippewa hikers, and went for a long walk with my senior walking pal. When I returned home and after I showered, my spouse was still resting. I let him sleep.
By 0800, he was awake, and I prepared his favorite four-flour gluten-free waffle. After breakfast, assured that he was okay, I picked up three senior pals to take them grocery shopping.
All of my pals are concerned about me. One of them has a son who is a local motorcop. Apparently she called him, and soon thereafter he called me. “Hey, Mr. Sunshine (reference to my usual bright disposition) — I’m coming over in 30 minutes on my Harley and you’re following me on yours to the most awesome place. Don’t say no, and no questions. Just be ready.”
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461 days ago in the county seat of the county and state of my birth, I was given this ring and had it placed on the third finger on my left hand. I returned an identical ring to the man I married. 
With this post, I am taking a holiday break. Here in the good ol’ USA, July 4 is our Independence Day. No, it is not the “fourth of July holiday” — that expression always drives me nuts, like when I hear people wish each other, “Happy Fourth of July!”