We live on 4 acres. Every piece of ground that isn’t going up is going down. When we moved here 11 years ago, I wore high-top boots. I was on the back steps, unlacing them, when Ruth asked me to inspect some cement I had poured for her solar clothes dryer. I stumped off, laces flopping and declared she could hang clothes. We saw something shiny and wandered out under the persimmon trees in high grass. I stepped in a hole and rolled my left ankle for the zillionth time. Ruth heard three pops.

My doctor advised that I shouldn’t do that anymore unless I wanted pins in my ankle. Ruth had little faith in me lacing my boots properly, so she got me velcro high-top shoes. I quoted Jonathan Winters in It’s a Mad, Mad World, saying, “These boots are for a little girl.” Being obedient, I wear them and haven’t rolled that ankle since.

Recently, not to be “left” out of the fun, my left knee decided to hurt like crazy. Luckily, it only hurt going downhill, so I was fine 50% of the time—for seven months. Then, Ruth announced I had a doctor’s appointment. I wonderedd why, and she said she was tired of watching me limp around.

After X-Rays, my knee joint was deemed perfect; good news for a 75-year-old man. However, the doctor thought a knee brace was in order. I ordered the recommended brace and learned to put it on, making the velcro stick in all the right places.

Going out to fiddle around the place now involves attaching ten velcro straps. I will never be able to sneak back into the house because taking off my “equipment” is accompanied by the sound of velcro skritching loose.

I think my writing needs velcro. I use Grammarly and occasionally run my work through Hemingway. The rest of the time, I use the spaghetti technique to test for al dente—throw words against the wall and see what sticks. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a velcro wall and plot hooks that would stick instantly? I believe this could speed up my writing process.

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I spent my life teaching 6th graders. We have always been involved in church. Now I spend my days in an old stone house, wandering our four acres, and writing.