Are you still there????  I've been locked out of blogger for a week.  I finally figured out how to do a new password.  It only took me a week.  I hate passwords.

In addition, I have been trying to figure out my new diverticulosis diet.  What I can eat that won't make me sick. I have to try it--to find out if I can eat it which is a fail-fail system.  If you can't, you are sick for a week. Or two. 

But I am learning.  This is going to be a life journey.

For those of you who have experienced this, I'm sorry I wasn't sympathetic enough.  I now understand.

Perhaps if my password works tomorrow, I will be back to blogging again.  I've missed you.

 2561.   That's how many blogs I have written.  I don't believe it either!  I bet I could go back and re-run them and neither of us would remember them.

Sunday, I reviewed the 17 chapter of John.  It is a prayer in three parts.  The first five verses, Jesus prayed for himself. 

Then starting in verse six, he prays for the 12 that God gave him that they would tell the world the story of why he came.  

Then around verse 20 he begins to pray for you and me...those who would come after.  If you will substitute your name in every time the word "they" or "these" or "them" it becomes so meaningful.  Because for the next six or seven verses, he is talking to God about you.  It is so personal.  Jesus prayed to God....for me!

 My system of doing things in a certain order first thing every morning isn't working!!!   I got through step 1, 2, 3, this morning,  sat down in my chair, and fell asleep.  It's noon and steps 4, 5, and 6 aren't done.

Jeanine--across the street friend--brought me the mail a minute ago, and I realized that it must be Saturday's mail because today is a holiday?  She usually brings me my mail and I forgot to check it.

Getting older is interesting.  All the questions I used to have about why my mom and dad didn't do "this" or "that," I now understand.  It's not just forgetting, it's "slow down."  Nothing seems as important that it has to be done right this minute.

I did make it to church yesterday as usual.  At least I knew it was Sunday.  I wish I could go in my pajamas, but I'd probably get thrown out.

 Second day in a row that I have felt like I'm going to get back to normal--whatever that is.  No nausea!  Praise God.  I've been one by one adding foods back into my diet to be sure I don't get sick again and not know which food did it.

The thing that made it hard to go through was that I didn't have Squig here to take care of me.  He was my best medicine ever---over everything.

I am working on a sixth book.  About my dad.  Two books are with publishers...I need to submit another one while I have their interest in my writing.  They are very hard to connect with.

For all of your cards (Amy) and phone calls (too many to mention) Thank you.  It was encouraging.  Pat called every morning to see if I was up, Lisa called every day at 5:15 when she got off work to see if I was still ticking.  Becky, Jeanine, Jeanette, and Norma brought food.  God gives us friends to be there for us in times of need.  My friend Carolyn called at least three or four times a day to check on me.  I am blessed.

 My dad was the seventh son in his family.  He ended up being the one who took care of his mother when she was old.  I watched him do it, and learned about caring for someone, without thinking that someday I might need to take care of him.  

But that's how it turned out.  Mom died years before he did, and when Ken and I built the house out in Oakwood Acres, I got to design the plans and built a bedroom with an outside entrance to the back patio so he could come live with us, and still feel independent.

I remember one night I heard him rustling around and went to check on him, and he was getting dressed.  "Where are you going in the dark," I asked him?  

"I have to go get a job. I have to go to work," he said.  "Somebody has to pay for all of this."  He was 94 years old, still trying to take care of everything and everyone.

He was such a good man.  I was blessed.

I dropped everything I touched this morning.  My pills on the floor, my phone between my chair and the end table.  The paper cover to the tea bag and when I finally sat down I thought I would surely not drop anything else....such as the cherry pie Jeanette brought me and that I had successfully held on to so I could eat it for breakfast. 

I turned the heating pad on and put the cord across my lap.  And immediately dropped the cord into the cherry pie.  Yes....I licked it clean, let go of it and dropped it into the pie a second time.  At this point, I'm afraid to move!

But I have to go get the paper.  I think I'll go out there with my walker just to be sure....It's probably 50 steps.  I'm sure I'll drop the paper on the way back in.  I blame it on my daughter Pat.  She jarred me awake with a phone call and I didn't have time to stretch before I started my day.  My hands are still asleep????

Every time my computer updates anything, it locks me out of my blogger.  And forces me to make a new password.  I long for the days of a telephone call to an operator, or a for a conversation with a person who speaks English.

One person I got had a script they kept repeating.  You could understand what they were saying even though it had a horrible accent.  Problem was, they could speak from a card or prompter, but they didn't understand anything you asked.  They couldn't hear and interpret words in English.  So at every question I asked, they just repeated what was written on their prompter.

So when I don't blog, I'm inventing new passwords.  Ones I can't remember for five minutes to write them down.  How did we get here!  Remember when you picked up the phone and the operator said, "Number please?"  If you don't, you haven't ever lived in a perfect world where people talked to each other.