When life imitates art

the baby pictured here is my aunt with my grandparents. This is the only photo I have of my mother's father. This aunt died last week at age 97.5. She was lucid to the end but her heart gave out. How did I find out? Facebook. I called the daughter of the only remaining aunt to get details. No one had told her or her mother. Are they having a funeral? Who knows. I feel bad because I didn't see her this summer. I kept dropping broad hints to my cousin but stopped short of inviting myself.

Allie turned five and had her party at a place full of playground equipment. 

the birthday girl looking the clone of her mom. Baby Hannah is more like Josh

We made our annual pilgrimage to Grand Rapids for their art competition. Every year less and less art. Now they will have it every other year. Still had fun walking around

these amethysts were part of a huge art work

This hand woven top was in a museum shop and is pricy. Still I want it. I am always buying thrift store stuff. Shouldn't I have something nice? I have plenty of black outfits to throw it over

Looks like a painting right? All embroidery with silk thread

some art was along the streets; some in the museums. Hotel lobby art

They had ten or so plastic crocs along the water. Art?

A MeToo political statement This is that pig Weinstein who forced himself on actresses if they wanted jobs. The lady in black has pepper spray at the ready as he tries to seduce the young one in white while grabbing his crotch

I haven't seen a praying mantis in 20 years or so. She cocked her head quizzically as I tried to take her photo. Where was she?

on the nearest joint of this praying mantis sculpture. Embiggen and maybe you can see her

this is as close as she will get to Poppa Steve

apple orchard time. I will have Maya all weekend. We will go here

I've been back nearly two weeks now from our SW adventure and trying to get back to normal. Still uncomfortably hot. I was dripping in sweat long after I finished running this morning. The days are shorter so I have to leave much later especially while biking. It is now been two years since I decided to do something about my obesity. How am I doing? Not as well as I would like but I guess it is a minor miracle that I was able to pull it off. Still people's first guess is that I must have some sort of scary wasting disease, not will power. As I type, I am 3 pounds over my lowest point last year. I would like to be 4-5 lower than I am now and I will shut up about it. Should be easy right? I was close before our vacation. Even though meals were far between, I couldn't exercise at my usual intensity.

Last week I had my 'welcome to Medicare' physical in which I had to answer all sorts of questions. Can I dress myself, feed myself? etc. My favorite: do I practice 'safe sex'? I left that one blank. I was asked to draw a clock complete with hands indicating a specific time. Also I was to memorize 3 words to recall 5 minutes later. Had an EKG. They said I had bradycardia. What's that? She said slow heart beat. I knew that: what's the cut-off? 50. Mine is 45. Well then you can't accuse me for being hyperthyroid (my TSH was low). Other than a low white blood count (???) I am the picture of health. Still I discussed genetic testing. Naomi's doctor thinks I was remiss for not testing for the BRAC1/2 deletion which is associated with the type of breast cancer I had especially as she is Jewish (and I am not) This partial test indicated that I may be a carrier for the BRAC2 gene which scared the life out of me but then I read about all the false positives. This will  be settled once and for all.  The BRAC1 is more associated with Jewish people but the BRAC2 with Scandinavian. Ancestry just refined its testing and as it turns out, I am much more Scandinavian than Irish. BRAC2 is an autosomal dominant gene which means one of my parents had to have it. It appears that if they did, it didn't manifest itself. If I do have the gene, each of my kids has a 50% chance of getting it from me. I could say they are all Steve clones with nothing from me but with their luck, they got this. And they could give it to their children. If they had it, what would it mean: 70% chance of breast cancer (and the aggressive kind I had) and 40% chance of ovarian which is impossible to detect until it's too late. The men are on the hook for the aggressive type of prostate cancer and somewhat of a risk for pancreatic.

I didn't fit the guidelines when I was first diagnosed as I was a bit too old but now they changed the guidelines.

Today I went to a fashion show at this club for rich University women that my grandparents belonged too. My grandfather was a successful physician and did teach at UM Medical school. I hadn't been there since he died. We were the youngest women there by far. We sat with a woman who was a neighbor of my grandfather's . Small world. They were just reminiscing about him lately. He would have been 128 years old if still alive. They called his house Mount Vernon not Tara as I had read about it. All of the other houses in their fancy neighborhood were designed by innovative architects whereas my grandfather made a house out of sugar cubes and told the architect to make it like that.  As for the clothes, they were nice but pricy. I do buy them at the fancy thrift store as they seem to have some partnership deal with them but I wasn't going to share that with the rich ladies.