You never know what will happen here in Heaven. Woke up in a BAD MOOD. Grumble, grumble, cleaning and cleaning and cleaning. Two bags of stuff for the thrift store. Load Bella. Decide to hit Safeway for dog food and bananas.

An elderly cowboy, blue shirt, black winter hat — the kind of man my Uncle Hank would call an “Old Boy” (high praise) — was walking with a cane behind his wife. He wasn’t having the easiest time getting around. I stopped because we were about to collide. 

“Excuse me young lady,” he said. 

“Thanks for that!” I said, smiling. His wife grinned and shook her head.

“I’m not stupid. If I said ‘Excuse me old lady’ you might deck me.” He grinned. 

I laughed. He then shared his philosophy which is be happy all the time because you might die any minute. “I was near death three times,” he said. “Struck by lightning three times.”

“What were you doing you got struck by lighting?”

“Horseback twice. First time, killed the horse right out from under me.”


“Yeah. The second time, I’d jumped down to get the gate.” I imagined — correctly — a metal gate. “Horse was fine that time. The third time, I was on a back hoe. I come to and had no idea I’d been hit. Back hoe still running.”

Not in a bad mood any more. Not cleaning any more, either. 

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