Mr Safety

Tue Feb 3 7:32 AM and 2026 just keeps getting deeper and deeper into itself, Time, which is always the present moment, moving inexorably toward its future. 

"Inexorably," a good word, I looked it up, it means "in a way that is impossible to stop or prevent," which we all knew, but how often does someone stop to define a word? Well, come to think of it, once a day, eh?, for those of us who receive Anu Garg's a-word-a-day in our email. 

So, my life, which to me is always present here and now, stays in the same place, the present; but Earth moves inexorably round the Sun, giving us a way to count Time, adding numbers to our past, making mine consist of, so far, 91 Thanksgivings, 91 Christmases, 91 New Years Days, 91 Januarys, and now working into my 91st February: ninety-one of everything on the calendar will be complete on my next birthday.

So, what do I do to help Time include me a bit longer? Well (there's that ubiquitous well again), I actively acknowledge my age and try to live into it: getting around 7H at night, I use a walker to guard against falling. And we each have a walker in the car to walk the long corridors at Pruitt when we go to visit Malinda. With rare exception, Linda and I no longer drive alone, and the passenger actively helps the driver by keeping watch for safety issues. With one exception that we're going to have to face and deal with even if we don't want to, we no longer drive after dark. I still comb my hair the same old way, and it still looks fine in the mirror as long as I don't look at the top, so I'm content with it. The CHF keeps my right leg ankle foot nearly double the size of the left leg, so I try to remember to watch it and take my furosemide to drain off the excess fluid; and if the left leg ankle foot gets the size of the right one I know I've been careless and let a problem develop. We are so grateful for our 7H apartment that's relocated us safely out of house ownership, oh my God. We try to be very mindful of the concrete car stops in the garage below, not all of them are painted yellow as they need to be for safety, which makes them invisible to elder eyes. I learned, and remember, from my years on the bishop's diocesan Commission on Aging, that younger leaders are oblivious to the issues of elderly parishioners, and I worked to make sure that Sunday church bulletins were printed in a large font size, and that steps were prominently marked to prevent falls; at ninety-one, in church I no longer expect to sing the tiny hymns, we no longer bounce up and down with all the Episcopal sitting, standing, and kneeling; and we no longer kneel at the altar rail for Holy Communion. I no longer salt my food, instead using a pure potassium product labeled NoSalt, except if I'm eating a steak out, or if my oysters on the half shell are cold but not salty. 

This has turned into a Safety Manual for the Elderly, when what I intended to write about is our current taste test experiment with hotdogs. We've established that Pepperidge Farms hotdog buns are superior to the Wonder Bread brand, and we're working on a frankfurter test. I've discovered that Oscar Meyer Weiners have no personality at all compared to Snake River Farms beef franks; and Hebrew National breakfast this morning 

moved OMWs even farther into the darkness compared to Hebrew National, which have a character of their own: trying two types, Uncured and Jumbo with one bun, each frank with just a dribble of my Senf with mayo mixture, and another dribble of RAO's truffle ketchup, Hebrew National is tops, it's made with quality beef cuts and not with beef parts, "parts is parts" beef.   

My birthday wish was to turn 17 instead of 90, but I obviously didn't blow out all the candles with one mighty puff and get my wish. Maybe this year, 2026, which is moving inexorably forward in Earth's trip around the Sun.

Life is Gift, and Time is all we have; so if you waste Time, waste it intentionally and purposefully. I waste a good bit of Time exercising my mind with Solitaire card games online and contemplating my next visit to an oyster bar.

RSF&PTL

T90

photos: looking south from 7H at 6:11 AM today; breakfast: two Hebrew National franks (one uncured, one jumbo) with one split top bun

going to publish this blogpost without reading over to edit and correct