I was probably a grandmother when I was given my own helium balloon for some special occasion. I hadn’t realized I’d longed for one for years, so of course no one else knew of my obsession with them. It became common knowledge, and I’ve had several balloons every year. I love them when they tug at their tethers, and I talk to them when they sink to my level.

Both balloons had lost some bounce. I opened the door to the back porch, because it was cooler outside than inside. The red Valentine saw an opportunity and escaped out the door, still tied to his clothes pin. He had been bigger than a basketball and just as round when he was new in February. He’s an odd shape now, with a personality to match.

At breakfast time, the Mother’s Day balloon perched on the back of a chair and pretended to chat with with invisible people all around the table. She even turned and watched the Aura frame in the background! We were listening to a Vivaldi CD, which we both enjoyed.

Have you ever noticed that older people who live alone get a little funny in the head??