Just then I suddenly I broke the unspoken rule not to speak to strangers in the Emergency waiting room.
“Wow! I too slipped on the ice and broke my wrist!”
And with that response, the prevailing frequency shifted, quickened. . .
She and I started talking, detailing our own falls, then segueing to Bloomington weather, frequency of icy streets, etc. I asked her how long she has lived here. All my life, she responded. “And you?”
I told her 20 years, that I got here because my 55-year-old husband Jeff wanted to go to law school and picked IU.
“WHAT? I KNOW HIM! I REMEMBER HIM!”
(to be continued)
Today, noon, surgery, uneventful. Home by 3 pm. The new splint frees my fingers, so can do much more than before. not type yet tho. still pecking.
”And you? My teacher looked up, his left eyebrow arched, pencil poised. 'I want to do a paper on the concept of time.’” I mumbled, timidly. 'Time?' He sniffed. “I wouldn’t touch the subject. Too difficult.” — AK, 1967
Ph.D. 82
Astrologer, published author, conference presenter, world traveler, founder & editor of Crone Chronicles: A Journal of Conscious Aging (1989-2001) , and founding visionary of Green Acres Permaculture Village (2010 to present).
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