She turned 86 and she's still getting around and keeping her own house. Two years ago she broke her wrist working in the yard. Then, she fell while digging a ditch and was stove-up for a while. But, she's all healed and doing well.
She's still enjoying a toddy, occassionally.
I hope when I'm 86 I'm still able to hoist a magnum from the ground to my waist. And I hope Miss Reba continues the same exercise plan for many, many years to come. Miss Reba got clothes and jewelry and candles and bottled spirits. Not a bad birthday at all.
For today, a number of us cooked and we gathered at PawPaws house for the festivities. We had beans and tater salad and green salad and grilled chicken and sausage and pork tenderloin. It's been all cleaned up now, the kitchen is straight and the guests have departed. The grandsons are still in the pool.
Pawpaw needs a shower and a nap.
Happy Birthday, Reba.
Whiskey's gonna kill that nice old lady one of these days. . . .
ReplyDeleteI think Whiskey's gonna have a fight on it's hands...
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