I haven’t posted to my blog in 10 days and the world has not come to an end

Fortunately, nothing really noteworthy has happened except that (a) ebola has come to the United States, (b) ISIS/ISIL continues to endear itself to the world, and (c) the U.S. midterm elections are a mere four weeks away, so in this post we’ll just ramble.

Ready? Let us begin.

I made several new friends in the past year -- a gastroenterologist, a urologist -- no psychiatrist yet, but that may be next.

My PCP (translation for non-U.S. readers: primary care provider, which is what used to be called a family doctor, which is what used to be called a general practitioner, which is what used to be called...oh, forget it) has taken me off iron pills because my hemoglobin is now 15, my hematocrit is 42, and my ferritin is 70-something. I’m officially no longer anemic.

My urologist said that the analysis of the 24-hour collection of my urine a few weeks back (in a big, wide-mouthed orange plastic container that could hold a couple of gallons, for those of you who just have to know every last detail) shows that everything is normal. He has scheduled me for a CT scan with and without contrast in one year.

Our oldest son turned 50 a couple of weeks ago. He didn’t want any big hoopla but consented to having a small family gathering at a local restaurant where a jazz group plays on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday evenings. When we walked in they were playing Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five” and it really took me back. At our table were the honoree, his wife, his two children (aged 17 and 14), his parents-in-law, and us, his honest-to-gosh parents, Mr. and Mrs. RWP. A good time was had by all, especially after dinner when he joined the jazz quartet for about 20 minutes with his soprano saxophone. I especially liked “Watch What Happens” even without Sarah Vaughan (2:36).

Last Thursday I appeared on the local telly here in Atlanta as part of a choir on a two-hour program about the Redback Church Hymnal, a southeastern U.S. phenomenon that uses shaped notes, or, more accurately, shape notes. Our choir (there were two) had three separate segments and sang ten songs altogether. Here’s proof I was there, a photo of a telly screen taken by my friend Margaret Gray Turner of Cartersville, Georgia:

One of my grandsons is playing college-level baseball now:

...and another was chosen by his friends to represent the Junior Class at his high school’s homecoming football game:

...and another enjoys being in the band:

...and another, who began taking dance lessons when he was three (he’s 17 now) , was just named to “All State” level for the 2014-2015 school year. Sixteen dancers (eight boys and eight girls) were chosen out of 140 very talented students who auditioned statewide. (Sorry, no photo available.)

Mrs. RWP is nearly finished with the first afghan of six she plans to crochet for the grandchildren. Just in time too for the eldest (the baseball player) as the temperature dipped to 36 degrees Fahrenheit yesterday morning and I hear that college athletic dorms are pretty drafty (that’s a little pun for Reamus if he happens to be reading this, and I hope the rest of you got it too) .

The leaves, they are a-falling, and the temperatures, they are a-dropping, because October has arrived. Summer is past and gone. The swimming pool in our subdivision is closed. Thanksgiving and Christmas are just around the corner. Time flies when you’re having fun (and even when you’re not) .

Well, kiddies, I think that’s enough rambling for today and I do hope we’ll be talking again soon.