Autumn Begins

The trees are proclaiming a change of season, mostly by dropping their leaves. Our house is approximately 2,600 feet above sea level, so we are noticing a slight change of green rather than pastel colors. Neighbor Logan is again catching the school bus at the stop sign, and John is involved with fall events at Tennessee train clubs.

Yesterday Logan came over to visit for a couple of hours after school. As usual, he shed his shoes at the door and later took off his socks, as well. I didn’t know that his mother told him not to watch television or play on the computer, that he should just visit with me. We had a snack, and Logan asked what board games we had. I refused to play checkers, his favorite, because it takes my every last brain cell to keep him from trouncing me. That’s as much a statement of my failure as it is his ability. Last time he wasn’t keen on Peggity, my favorite, but he settled for it. I’m still good enough that I can make him win every other time. We may have played ten games now, and he is beginning to grasp the strategy. If we continue to play, he will soon be like Tom, my childhood neighbor who beat me EVERY time 65 years ago. It’s a wonder I recovered.

Logan asked to look in grandson David’s closet. He caressed the Nerf guns but didn’t fire them. He asked to play catch with a tennis ball. We did it for a little while, but picking up all the balls I dropped made my knees protest. He streaked to the place where we keep balloons and soon had a blue one blown up.

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Our grandsons have played balloon games with us since they could run. We batted one back and forth, developing games as we went. Logan ruled that the object was to keep the balloon off the floor. Next, he used his head instead of his hands. It was only a matter of time until he rolled on the large green exercise ball that I use as a computer chair. He jumped on it and rolled forward, head first, landing in a wiggling heap on the other side. He asked to read a book, but I didn’t know where there were any he would like. We changed venue for ballooning, going to the living room. He set my grandmother’s small chair as a net. I imagined her sitting there with a sweater pulled over her arms, and she would have laughed with delight. Logan’s forceful blows sent the balloon behind the chaise lounge I was sitting on. His bare feet pounded the hardwood floor, and he launched himself onto the back. He used the rounded back as a fulcrum to retrieve the errant balloon from the floor. He had a workout of sorts, but I had the best geriatric exercise in the world, reaching for that balloon.

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View behind my seat to play balloon.  Note padded back of the furniture.
092817 Logan's view where we played balloon.jpg
Logan’s view of the balloon arena.

Shawn texted, “Do you have a little boy over there? You can send him home now and thank you for having him! He loves you guys.”

I replied, “No computer and no TV!!!”

This is when I found out we were supposed to avoid electronics. Shawn said, “Wow. I am impressed. We asked him to not do that, just to spend time with you, and I wasn’t sure he would listen. I’m impressed.”

Shawn wasn’t the only one who was very impressed.