Blue Sky, sunshine, what a day to take a walk in the park....

Some days I wonder just how well-recognized my grandsons and I are around our part of Portland. As I maneuvered my big double-stroller in thru the doors of the library -- with the much-appreciated help of a Good Samaritan (usually I'm stuck doing it all by myself) -- a not-so-familiar librarian spoke up and said, "It looks like someone's out for a power walk today!" I smiled as I passed by her and replied, "Every day!" Her eyebrows shot up -- she was probably a few years older than me -- and said, "Every day?!" And another librarian who's worked there forever said, "Yes, every day. They're in here all the time."

I got to thinking about our walks. I got to thinking how so many women my age aren't healthy enough or physically capable of doing what I do on an almost-daily basis -- we do take time off when the weather is crummy -- and I took a moment to thank the Lord for strong bones and for restoring my health after last year's debacle. For the opportunity to give this gift to my grandsons, because it is a gift...getting out into the fresh air and sunshine every day, learning about the world around them. So what if by the end of the day my joints are a little achy? I hit the pillow at the end of the day and it's a rare thing for me to suffer from insomnia...I'm out like a light.

I always half-joke and say I dunno if caring for them will kill me off early or keep me young forever. I think I'll vote for keeping me young.

The corners of my mind....

....seem to be filled with too many thoughts lately. Focusing on any one thing is so hard to do. What especially grieves me is my "to do" list because so much has to be put off and I am not, by Nature, a procrastinator. I was raised to do things when they needed getting done. Now I look at my tangled flowerbeds, the front and back porches which need painting, house trim that's dingy and in need of touch-ups. The windows are streaked on the outside...when was the last time I washed those?! The basement is getting filled up to overflowing with all the cast off junk I no longer need, as well as stuff that belongs to the rest of the family that has nowhere else to be stored. I could make a killing on a yard sale, if only the packrats in the family could let go of things. There are hunting clothes enough to dress 10 people, let alone Dear Hubby, and boxes and boxes of books I'm sure are the delight of silver fish. Stacks of stuff here, stacks of stuff there. Clutter drives me absolutely bonkers!

And yet, what would I rather be doing than what I'm doing now, helping in raising my two grandsons? So what if things have to lie low for a few years? It'll all be there waiting for me when my tenure as care taker is over. The hours spent wandering around this city with the two boys, little boys who are enthralled with everything they see, truly are limited when I get down to it. The days of ferocious temper tantrums like I experienced yesterday - Cooper screamed for 1 1/2 hours straight, to the point where he was so worked up nothing would appease him - will soon be nothing but a memory. Hearing "Mommy" and "Mama" all day long will be distant echoes.

So, my version of this beloved poem.....

I hope that my (grand)child(ren), looking back on today

Will remember a (grand)mother who had time to play;

Because children grow up while you're not looking,

There are years ahead for cleaning and cooking.

So, quiet now cobwebs, dust go to sleep.

I'm rocking my (grand)baby, and babies don't keep.

...and this is Dylan at almost 3 1/2

Cooper, his hard hat, and "big dig truck"

Is this about the cutest "worker dude" you've ever seen?

Today my older grandson Dylan stopped me in my tracks with a question. As he and Cooper and I stopped on the sidewalk across from a construction site where two houses are being built he asked me, "Meez (me) and Mommy (grandma) build big house?"

"You and Grandma?"

"Uh-huh."

"You mean someday?"

"Uh-huh."

Without thinking about it I said, "Well, when you grow up to be a man you might build a house someday."

"Meez and Mommy?" he asked again.

That stopped me cold. In 20 years my grandson will be 23. I'll be 75.

"No, baby. Just you. Because grandma will be an old lady."

And the sobering thought is yes, in 20 years I will be one.

20 years.

Whoa.