The Lime Leaves are Fresh Friday Round-Up

You have to approach this time in our country in layers. Or maybe concentric circles is a better image. There’s you. Then your family – given or acquired. And then the community and last, it has to be last I think or you’ll go crazy, is the country. For months I’ve been focused primarily on the country. Every shock, threat, and risk had me stewing with worry. But lately, I’ve been shoring up the inner circles. Still alert, but now with a stronger weave, not so flimsy, not so neglected. It was a power move I made almost unconsciously. I need my base. My base needs to be strong.

We spent a good hour tangled in the near southside streets of our town so we could buy bean sprouts, kafir leaves, and raw peanuts at the beloved Asian Market. Driving a pick-up truck in a congested neighborhood didn’t help but that’s what we do. It’s nutty. On the menu is Thai panang curry shrimp. I hear the old man downstairs rattling around in the kitchen. It’s one of the world’s best things. I just went down to take a picture, and he was roasting peanuts.

Last Friday, the Commission on Aging elected a new chair who will start in January. So, after three years of being chair, I will become a backbencher to serve out the remaining nine months of my term. It’s all good. Change and all. New people taking the leadership. I liked being chair but it required that I sit up straight all the time when I have only intermittent good posture, if you get my drift.

This change and the fact that I’m no longer on the Street Angels board has me scouring the want ads for what’s next. I love believing there are opportunities and options for me even at my advanced age. I think when you stop thinking about what’s next, you’re really cooked. I’m not cooked yet. I’m not even parboiled.

The ice is fierce. We wear crampons on our boots. If we didn’t, we’d have to stay inside or take tiny, scared steps. Ice is the enemy of old people. Actually, all people, if you get my drift.