Trips to the dogpark have been the one “daily” outing during “THIS”, lol, can barely wait to see what this really is all about.
So far, I’m experiencing “it” as about controversy.
Writing about it is a little weird, I know people are hurting bad during this having experienced losses ranging from loss of loved ones, lost finances, lost confidence in available information, loss of perceived pluses” whatever they are for you ... the Country seems to enter the anger part of the grieving process.

The five stages of grief are:

• denial.
• anger.
• bargaining.
• depression.
• acceptance.

What’s next, I wonder.

Right after I wrote my last note here, I fell at the dog park.
On downward sloping terrain my right foot found a rock jutting up, but hidden, in a clump of clover. My left foot was already up mid stride when an alternate landing became necessary. Fortunately, my husband was able to grab one of my flailing arms so I never really hit the ground. That would have been bad (plus, dog park).
The pain was sudden and flipped a switch in me that child-birthing epidurals must have put the chill on. I was overly firm whilst rejecting help from the first responder, a stranger who had entered the park just before us with two smallish dogs. She looks like a new Veteran or a professional athlete, like a volleyball coach at the local University. Anyway, I was unkind. It bothers me because I haven’t seen her since, but she probably gets it.
No question which way I go when the primal fight or flight thing happens.
Cracked left tibia with deep bone bruising. I’ve already done my three week check up and no follow up is required. Dr. said use the knee brace for another three weeks and the cane when you’re going to be “hiking”.  

So, what’s it like to have a walking stick like Henry’s?
I like it. It does help with the not smooth areas  on our laps out at the dogpark (five acres - it was a pecan orchard and about 1/3 of those trees remain). And it's fun to poke and point at things with it.
This is the fun of it - Henry is known (and apparently adored) by the dogs at least partly because he has a “cookie” for them when they come up and ask. They seem to recognize Henry from a distance (I hadn’t observed that) because of the cane and make a bee line to him with expectations sparkling their eyes. It is so sad but mostly funny when they see me. Somehow they know I don’t have “the stuff”.  I can see the recognition/acceptance in their eyes right before glancing hopefully at my husband, who looks a lot like a younger taller Henry. Nope, he’s lame too is the vibe they project shooting off as fast as they came. 

I am truly sensitive to the people who are grieving their losses during this time. 

That said, I sat down (from gardening) to write a note to my kids because I know they’ll read this later.

Life is good here. I feel very fortunate. 

We are well.