I see in tracksy that many of my old friends have come back to check on me, some, more than once. I apologize for the vacant space. I have written a lot on the affects that age has on those of us who qualify as geezers, geezerettes, coots, cootesses, and even once about cooties. I have almost never been so affected by the limitations imposed on me by age and infirmity (both physical and mental) as I have in the past couple of weeks. Moving has been exciting, interesting and unusual, and many times I have had thoughts of things that might interest my blogging friends, but most of all moving has been exhausting, confusing, and enervating.

Patrick mentioned in one comment that his next move would be in a box. I have had moments when I thought that this move would end up with me in a box. I am not sure if I could have coped if Janet and I hadn't spent some time and effort trying to lose weight during the run up to this move. If I were still carting around the thirty plus extra pounds I was carrying three months ago, I don't want to even think about how pooped this coot would be. (I mentioned in a post, (I think!!) that one result of weight loss is that my chest and hips are now smaller than my waist, and that is now one of the disadvantages of weight loss. You can hardly imagine how many times moving into a new house and out of an old one requires reaching up high above one's head, and when one reaches pear shape that often mean that one's pants fall down below the knees. I am using suspenders, have considered rope connecting pants to shoulders, but I still flash anyone in the house every once in awhile. Fortunately most of the viewers have seen it before and are tolerant beyond imagination.

I still have a post I would like to make about the Gaither adventure and its followup, and there are really some important observations about the difficulty in deciding how much of an old life one wants to carry to a new location, and the pain in leaving some of it behind. Jan and I moved about fourteen or fifteen times in the first ten years of our marriage, and the changes were really great adventures. Making a move after thirty plus years in one locations changes the color of that adventure.

As I find energy, and as my mind clears I will try to be more consistent. I also miss commenting on the blogs of others. I have still been reading most of my friends but making a coherent comment has been beyond my capacity.

In fact, I am beyond my capacity right now, and am on my way to bed. (One of the advantages of our current situation is that I have no trouble getting to sleep, though, strangely enough, I find my self arising earlier than I have in years. All those things that I have to get done that I know aren't going to happen. Sigh.

Well it's done, sorta. We're "moved?"

Last week was one of the most hectic days of our lives. We had a lot of friends volunteer to come help us pack things, but we weren't able to use their services because the biggest task was sorting into KEEP, YARD SALE, DONATE, and TOSS OUT.

Saturday we had about twenty guys and five or six women from our church come to help us move. We had a twenty four foot truck and filled it (and emptied it) twice. We now have two residences and they are both an almost unbelievable mess ( though the new one is a really clean mess), as well as a lot of exhausted members or our church family.

We didn't move the computers because they change over our phones (and thus our DSL) during the next week, so I probably won't post anything else for a while. I would like to send pictures of things as they are right now, but I can't find my camera bag (probably in the last box we unpack). We moved mostly the big things, so last night I realized that I didn't have a pair of clean trousers in the new house to wear to church this morning, so I drove back home, picked them up (bought some shower curtain rings as well) and got home (new house, where I now have a bed) pretty late, but hung they shower curtains so we could get clean in the morning and hung up my rescued trousers. This morning Janet got into the shower, and the next thing I heard was "Where are the tooth brushes and my make-up?"

Back to the old house to get toothbrushes and other necessities!!. I have a feeling that the next week will be laden with commuting tasks. I am sure that there was a reason why we decided to do this, but right now, it seems vague. I'll post again when and if the computers are working.

Another Gaither Family Fest Moment.

I just have to tell one more Gaither story, though for that story, I need to acquaint you (those who don't know) with Guy Penrod. Guy Penrod has been the lead singer (Gospel quartet language for second tenor, and the guy who most often carries the melody) for the Gaither Vocal Band (elaborate name for a really fine quartet) for as long as I have been familiar with the Gaithers. (I have some OLD discs of the Gaither Vocal Trio that don't have Guy Penrod but had Bill Gaither's brother singing lead).

Any way, Penrod has one of the most beautiful rich tenor/baritone voices I have ever heard, and he sings with enormous passion. His appearance is unlike the other "Band" members. He is tall and slender with a grey goatee and long grey hair. He almost always wears jeans, western boots, and an enormous silver belt buckle that looks like one he might have won riding bulls in the rodeo. One person described him as a baseball playing, rodeo riding, cowboy, mountain man, son of a preacher man, tenor. (I couldn't testify to any of these except the tenor, though crowd mythology says he was a professional baseball player as well as a rodeo cowboy.) According to the lady who sat behind us, he lives near her in Kentucky, has an enormous pick-up truck, either six or seven sons, and finally a daughter. She says he and his family are self sufficient, that is, they grow and preserve their own vegetables and fruit, raise cattle and butcher their own meat, and they home school their children. They also have a big van in which the whole family goes to church each Sunday. (She also said, in a voice of wonder, "He even goes to Wal-Mart".)

With all this, he is an enormously handsome man and could, had he wished, have been a musical star in almost any venue. As an old coot who made his living for over thirty years as a theatre director, I can hear his voice in my mind's eye- or ear- singing Phantom of the Opera. Wonderful thought.

Before performance on the last day, my dear one went out into the lobby to invest in some DVD's and CD's, probably to make me happy, I am more of a fan than she. She bought a DVD of, I think, the Texas Homecoming. When she told the man in the booth what she wanted, he informed her that she was entitled to a free CD. She asked if it had to be of the came concert for which she purchased the DVD, and the man said "No, you can have any of the CD's on the rack."

"I want Guy Penrod" she stated.

Looking at her very seriously he replied "Most of the ladies do."

She chuckled about that for the rest of the day, and told the story to everyone in section EE. They all smiled knowingly then laughed as well.

(She tells this so much better than I.)

Interesting experience today.

Jan and I were really tired of trying to pack things and decided (I know it is silly when we are in disposal mode) to go around to a bunch of the local yard sales this morning. When we were through, we contacted our carpenter son (who is doing touchups on the new house) to join us for breakfast at Shoney's. (Our Shoney's had the most wonderful biscuits and gravy, and their "Sunrise Special" has been a long time Saturday habit with Jan and me. It is our one great adventure with carbs and calories each week.) We ate and talked, and killed a couple of hours, so that, about noon we arrived home. As we were entering the house I looked over at the pick-up truck that second son had left at our house for our use, and there was a lady sitting in the truck.

I went over and asked her what she was doing there and she asked, in reply, when our house had caught fire, and if there was a great problem putting it out. Stating that our house had not been on fire, and that she was sitting in my son's pickup, she "picked up" several things, including sunglasses, a tripod, some exercise bars, handed them to me to hold and stepped out of the truck, putting out her hand to receive the things she had handed me. I knew that they belonged to second son, so I didn't give them to her, to which she indignantly replied that Mr. McMillan had given them to her. As I was explaining that I knew no Mr. McMillan, I noticed a series of three hospital bracelets on her arm. One of them gave her name and labeled her as a patient at the Georgia Regional Hospital.

As she was telling me that she needed my car to go to the mall, my son called the police and explained that we had a lady at our house who was completely disoriented and had hospital bracelets on her arm. They replied that they knew her well, that she had checked herself out of the Mental Hospital a few days ago against doctors recommendations (How any one totally disoriented could check herself out of anywhere is beyond me) but they would be along to pick her up. Ten minutes later, when they hadn't come, but we had invited her up on the porch out of the rain, she exclaimed "I have to go to the bathroom", turned, walked into our house and went directly to the bathroom. (We hadn't locked the door when we left) demonstrating that she had been in the house already. She then picked up an empty cardboard box and left, walking out to and down the street. We doubted that we had the right to restrain her so we just called the cops again and told them what way she had gone. (Obviously they were in no hurry). They just said that they would find her, and, after locking the doors securely, we went on to move stuff to the new house. The refrain that kept haunting me for much of the rest of the day was Jesus' statement "As you have done it unto one of the least of these, my children, you have done it unto me." And I wondered what else I could have legally done.