Fathers Day 2016

I have been remiss in writing my  blog.  The events in Orlando still make me sluggish with depression.  In addition a dermatologist spend an hour digging cancer out of my face on Monday, and Tuesday the dental hygienist did his semi annual thing and then my daughter arrived  for Saturday's birthday party for my first great grandchild forty miles south of here where her maternal grandparents were vacationing with the family.  And into the mix my husband had brought a van load of paintings out of our New York apartment reuniting for the first time in twenty years the collection I began in 1945 (some having been sold off over the years as new purchases were made and we downsized for our reduced living space.)  The rehang was done over two days, he absolutely fearless in his good nature and tolerance of my "just a half inch over"  "no, that's doesn't work."  The stress was enormous; either that or something else made my balance even worse than usual.  Thursday the mounting pain in my lower left rib cage made me finally break down and go to the doctor who pointed out that I was like any old witch in a Grimm fairy tale bent over spine curving and thus pressing down on my rib cage unnaturally.  So I must get to my exercises.  Saturday was delightful once we survived the heart in the mouth drive south to the baby's birthday party.  She is adorable!  So full of smiles, good nature, reaching out, walking already by herself.  I am not a baby fancier at all.  I am here to say this child is blessed with a disposition of great goodness.  And you know what?  So are the parents.  My grandson has inherited the easy going ways of his incredibly goofy father, with a more strenuous work ethic.  And his wife is so pleasant, and so are her adorable parents.  I know that I am now gushing.  But, hey, these have been difficult days.  It's nice to celebrate something really wonderful.  And on June 16 was the sixtieth anniversary of our marriage to my children's mother.  That was what I set out to blog about the other day when I just could not go on.  Today the Times is full of Orlando again.  I will save it til later.  Husband with hammer and nails is putting up the last five works in the guest apartment.  And we are done.  And for those who had died in violence here and the politician in England, requiescant in pace.