Hey there, Harriet here. Well, I had to dash over to the hospital for my last PT session yesterday. Physical Therapy. I hate it. All those dratted exercises, point your toes, circle your ankle, put your foot in the whirlpool. Heaven’s to Betsy, so glad it’s over. Anyhoo, as I was making my through the lobby, a different way then I normally go on account of I had to park my car in the lower garage, I spotted something that made me laugh. I snapped the picture. HA! A horse named Humphrey. I couldn’t wait to get home and tell my Humphrey that someone named a horse after him.
And that got me thinking, why did I name my dog Humphrey? Well aside from the obvious reason of wanting him to have a name that started with an “H” I named him for my most favorite of all time actors Humphrey Bogart. I love every single one of his movies, especially Key Largo, Casablanca, and The Maltese Falcon. I hope Prudence enjoys Bogie because I have most of the movies on those DVD things. Amazing inventions, DVDs. We can watch a movie any dang time we want now. When I was young we stood in lines a mile long to get a ticket and sit in a theater on sticky, smelly seats that smelled like a yeast infection. Sometimes it was nice, like when Max and I saw Star Wars together and we smooched in balcony. Now that was exciting--all those space ships zooming about on the big screen--thrilling. But I will admit that I would take a Bogie movie over Star Wars any day.
Uhm, I must be certain to pack my movies in a place where I can get to them easily. I’m a bit concerned that I might be slow to unpack once I get to Grass Valley. How will I ever move an entire lifetime into Henry and Prudence’s house? It’s their house not mine. I’m just a guest, an add-on. Oh dear, that’s not a good feeling. Getting older has it’s perks, like no longer being fearful about telling a clerk or a waitress my true feelings, but now? Now I am being reduced to being a nuisance, an extra when what I really want it to be a member of the family, but you know, they need to have their own now. I promise not to get in their way--well I hope I promise. If Prudence ever decides to have a baby that could change. But still I wonder, will I always feel like an outsider? I’ve raised my family, buried my husband, sold my house, packed my belongings and now what? Perhaps my days are numbered. Oh perish the thought, and fiddle-faddle. I’m not that old for crying out loud. I’ll make my way. I have to believe that God is not finished with me yet and my children still need me. Oh dear, have you ever felt displaced? Does it get better? I’m sure it does. Well join me on my journey and we’ll find out together what’s left to accomplish.