Good news

Today my husband went to have an exam that required him to be anaesthetized during the procedure, which took about an hour. My daughter took him there and brought him back. He returned in a dazed condition, but relieved that no cancerous growth had been found. After a nap and a bowl of tapioca pudding, he soon was himself again. The pictures they sent back of his throat and esophagous were gruesome indeed, but all is fine. That was a relief to us both, and reinforced us in our determination to live here in our house as long as we can. We have a little cat that has lived for 24 years and is still going strong, and we hope to do the same. In cat years, 24 human years equates to 140 cat years. She is a little lame but otherwise fine.
We are watching TV scenes of the fires raging around Oakland and Watsonville, and hoping we won't have any around here. Between the floods and fires, this is a bad year for many people.
If it weren't for the mosquitos outside, this would be a wonderful evening to spend outside on the deck. It is about 80 degrees with a slight breeze coming up from the creek. The barn swallows are still swooping around outside, although all of the other birds are quiet.
If we were back in Wisconsin on a night like this, we would be seeing fireflies blinking their lights on and off in the darkness. We used to take glass jars and try to catch them inside. Whoever caught the most was the winner. Sometimes we would chase them on into the cow pasture, with disastrous results, considering the cow pads we would step into. My mother always made us wash our feet under the pump, since we were invariably barefooted in the summer and she didn't want us tracking up her floors. It seems horribly unsanitary now, but we gave it not a thought in those days. Maybe a little dirt was good for us.
Adios. Keep in touch.