Reviewing this old blog, I realized the subject of the Cornells needed updating--six months late though it is. Last December Mrs. C, having previously with her husband attained age 80, suddenly went to the hospital, where she was found to have leukemia. Then pneumonia set in.

From what little I've heard, the Cornells enjoyed something of an ideal marriage. (When I was a kid of ten-minus, I didn't know how to evaluate such things.) What I can say now is that the Dr. hasn't let widowhood keep him from his two monthly columns.

Before complaining again, I should perhaps note the curious family demographics occurring since my last entry. In these few months my mother lost four siblings to cancer or (some kind of) dementia. There were ten in her generation; with two gone previously only four are now left. As it happens, all ten were born over a period of 15 years. My mom bore my four brothers & me in 15 years as well, which presumably made her half as "productive" as her own mother.

Anyhow I originally intended to rant against "Xmas creep." Perhaps, with challenging times, merchants become more desperate & try pushing us to shop yet earlier. Well, this may not achieve the desired results. I think a little rebellion is in order. How about a great big Bah Humbug!?!

Finally my pathetic neglect of these Chronicles comes to an end--for the time being, anyway.

Last month my mother & I attended an observance (sort of a reception) in honor of the Cornells at their church. The Prof had recently turned 80, & this Sunday happened to mark his wife's 80th birthday. I should point out that she's been serving as the official parish nurse, in which capacity she's happened on my own parent plying her current volunteer "social(?)" work among the hospitalized.

His non-astronomy column's titled "Three Score and Ten." I asked him if he planned to change the name to reflect his age; he replied that he'd prefer to wait another decade.

None of their children made it to this event. For what it's worth, however, their preacher son & I are now connected on Facebook™. This is also true of my most interesting classmate, whom I finally learned has a husband.

Reading an old yet relatively recent entry here, I noticed a confessed failure to lose weight. Well, on turning 50 I started exercising at another club on our current side of town, farther to walk than the previous firm but still curiously accessible by foot because of the intervening street layout. After two years of doing this two or three times a week, I found my doctor still concerned about the course of my fat-fed type-two diabetic affliction (have I even mentioned it here before?) & felt motivated enough to make it three times every week--plus cut back on my most suspect dietary feature, namely alcohol. Later last year we saw a payoff, a loss of some 20 lbs--around nine or ten kilos--over six months. Since then there's been no documented loss, but my regimen continues.

I may have meant to suggest at some point that the holiday season could be labeled "The 30 Days of Christmas"--or, at any rate, I'd been considering it until late last year, when too much, too early, told me to go with "The Twelve Weeks of Christmas" instead.

Some chronicles, huh? Last year hardly happened--or is that this year?


Gee, thanks, Blogger--your new, improved version ate my posting again!

How pathetic. I haven't posted a thing in these Chronicles in a year [but see below]. Curiously enough, however, the last entry happens to bear the same date--I didn't consciously plan this--as today's will. And tomorrow, the 30th, our old house is finally scheduled to sell--on my late dad's birthday.

Well, there was an entry just before this one which was still in draft form. Finally returning to this blog, I saw no compelling reason not to publish it, so the last entry above actually is two back...