A grandson asked whether his grandmother would have liked the movie he was telling me about. I said probably not, too much crashing around, and he laughed because he remembered her saying something like that. It pleased me that he had his own memory of her, not one we had handed him afterward. Then I missed her sharply enough that I stopped peeling the orange I was making us share. He went on describing the movie. I let him. There was no reason to turn his question into a sad afternoon, and I did want to hear whether the dog got home. Apparently the dog was never lost. I had missed a fair amount of plot.

I'm deciding whether to plant fewer tomatoes next year. Every spring I allow for the ones that might fail, then most of them do fine and I spend late summer finding people who haven't already received a bag. My daughter says she will take all I grow, which is kind but not a planting plan. I could use half that space for something that doesn't come ready all at once. Then again, I enjoy carrying a bag next door and staying to talk. If I only grew what I ate, the rows would be short and the visits would need another excuse. I'll keep the good sunny row and leave the rest undecided for now.

Cool enough this morning that I put my hands in my pockets for the first part of the walk. My knees took their usual few minutes to settle into it, then I caught up with a fellow who normally gets well ahead of me. We walked together without either of us mentioning the pace. It felt good having some distance behind me before breakfast, and I was hungry when I got home instead of just eating because the clock said to. Sat down to take my shoes off and could feel the warmth in my calves. The trouble starts if I stay in that chair too long, so I got up to make the eggs before opening the paper.