Threescore ten and then...

My first seven years I lived at 1603 W. 22 nd Street in Houston, Texas. I remember it was a lovely place to grow up. There were oak trees, an elm tree,  a sweet gum, a pecan tree, magnolia trees, a wisteria vine, rose of sharon bushes, a pyracantha, and a grapefruit tree. My mother grew nasturtiums, daylillies, sweet peas, and shrimp plants. I was always curious about the things that grew in the yard. I remember lying down on the grass in the front yard, wishing I knew the name of every plant and bug.  That practice continues till now. I remember having tea parties and playing paper dolls with Debbie Hauck. She was my catty-cornered backyard neighbor. When we couldn't go over to each other's houses, we played in the corners across the fence. Her aunt, Mrs. Klaus, was my next door neighbor. She also grew lots of plants, swept her back yard, and had a hand wringer washing machine in her back yard. We all hung our clothes on a clothes line. She was a seamstress, and her husband w

I like numbers. They are simple and dependable. Real mathematicians would, I am sure, argue that numbers are complex and indefinite. But to me they are simple and dependable. Two plus two is four. I have been playing around with numbers a bit this year.   In 2022, Robert and I both completed our seventieth years, and I have been thinking about that landmark. Individually we have each had ten cycles of seven years.   Psalm 90 observes that seventy years is the span of a life, or maybe eighty, if we’re lucky.   Lord, you have been our refuge             From generation to generation.       Before the mountains were brought forth,       Or earth and world were born in travail, From age to age everlasting you are God. … Seventy years is the span of our life,       Eighty, if our strength holds; … Teach us to order our days rightly,      That we may enter the gate of wisdom. …      Satisfy us with your love when morning breaks,      That we may sing for