Thank you, James Taylor

Since Mr. Fixit was diagnosed with cancer at the end of 2013, I have done little except concentrate on his comfort and well-being. Until the last few months of his life, he was mobile and had very little discomfort. Most the discomfort came not from his cancer but from the treatment. Even the treatment didn't slow his down much. He had very few side effects. He was upset that he had to have so much help with things around the house. It galled him to think that our sons and grandchildren had to help with the repairs and yard work. He was the one who was always there for anyone who needed a room painted or had a car that needed repair.

During those years, I spent most of my time with him watching his beloved westerns, going to Wal-Mart, and taking the long way home. I cooked his meals, washed his clothes, and anything else he needed or wanted. My housework suffered greatly. (I've always hated housework so I wasn't overly concerned. Some might say that I enjoyed having an excuse for putting the dusting and vacuuming off for "just one more day.")

The weather has finally cooled a bit. For the first time in a year, even in winter, the ceiling fan in my room was off. As I lay in bed reading, I noticed it had a decidedly furry look. It was covered in dust. No, not just dust, but DUST! I was totally mortified. What if anyone saw it? This morning the first item on the agenda was cleaning the fans. An old song ran through my mind, "Winter, spring, summer or fall All you have to do is call . . . You've got a fan. And now they are clean, and the silly "you've got a fan" thought made me smile.