relaxing than to sit there in the late afternoon when the sun is lowering and the breeze is gentle. The harmonica comes out of Jack's pocket and one of the ladies who has music in her soul begins to lead the group in song. For a little while, all feels right with the world.
There's room for about 25 of us, 30 if we scoot over. The people watching is rewarding. Months ago, one of the ladies who was in her 90s, stood up and her slacks dropped and puddled around her ankles. I'm not altogether sure that she was aware of what happened, before a younger woman rushed to help. It was a wickedly wonderful moment and I didn't wield my camera.
The other evening I was pleased to see two of the more senior women in attendance. They appeared to be having a good time. The atmosphere certainly was different from the silent world in which they both usually exist. The one in the wheelchair is about as big as a minute. She always has a ready smile and admits to being lonely at times. The people watching paid off when one of them dropped a little square of cheese on the ground. She must have been a good housekeeper in her earlier days for she took a long toothpick and with difficulty bent to retrieve the cheese. It was a struggle as she made several stabs that fell short of the mark, but Mr. Bob's shutter clicked just as she connected and in that very moment a blog entry was born.
Every time I start thinking too much
about how I look,
I just find a Happy Hour
and by the time I leave,
I look just fine.