Here are paintings 3 and 4 along with the model for number 3.

I’ve been busy typing up my end-of life instructions for the young’uns. They keep bothering me like I’m going to keel over in the next few days. I don’t know why. I have a couple of graves I plan on dancing on, and both of the inhabitants are still alive. As time goes on, the list may grow longer. I can think of a dozen or so politicians I plan on outliving and so long as I can afford gas for my car, I might as well dance on their graves too.

I like to dance. It’s good for the heart, hips, and legs. I put on some rocking Cajun music and dance my blues away. I was really disappointed that I missed Beau Soleil when they were near here, but I rarely read the mailers that show up in my mailbox. That includes the newspaper for the suburb I share a zip-code with.

I should pay attention to the news from there because they frequently announce crafts sale sign-ups there. The sales are small, but the one time I did sign up for a fall one, I made quite a bit of money, considering it rained all day and the temperature never got above 40 degrees.

By quite a bit of money, I mean I had a few sales and made back my entry fee and the cost of all of the items I sold. Considering the Sunday Market I used to do out of town where I made practically no money, I felt very successful. The only reason I did the Sunday Market was that I was going to be in that town anyway, visiting a friend who was in a rehabilitation facility until she could walk again.

The two of us had been doing the market together for a year until she temporarily lost the use of her legs due to an injury to her back. Because she had steps into her home, she needed to be somewhere that was one level until she could handle the steps again. It took her two years of rehabilitation before she could return home. I continued the Sunday Market without her, but would stop in to see her. Before she could return home, she had a ramp built so she could use a walker to get in and out of her trailer home, and had her car modified for manual controls.

Since I really didn’t make enough at the Sunday Markets, I stopped attending them once my friend was able to get around on her own. Right after my final time up there, she drove down to visit me and we spent all that day going to craft stores so she could get more supplies for her crafting. She was so happy to be able to get around on her own. She had an aide who came to help her bathe and dress, but she could do most of the other things on her own.

Wednesday morning of the next week, the aide she found my friend dead in her bedroom. Apparently, she had gotten up out of bed and then had a fatal heart attack. There was a memorial service for her that I attended with several other friends who knew her.

I’ve lost several more friends since her death, all of them younger than me. The funny thing is I have outlived most of my parents’ generation of relatives and more than a few cousins on both sides. However, I am in no danger of running out of cousins. There are a couple of hundred of us on both sides particularly when you step down the generations – my siblings and cousins generation, their children, and their children’s children.

At some point in time, I will be the last of my familial generation, but today is not that day.