What is it about a foggy day that seems to clear our minds enough to write? As I had anticipated being prepared to supervise the mowing of our lawn this morning, I was informed that the lawn is too wet from the dew. Sigh!  Unlike Nancy, who requires at least two cups of coffee to wake up, I decided to write my overdue blog. Perhaps it’s a foggy day that makes me recall the horrific day when planes crashed into the World Trade Center. It was the deadliest terrorist attack on the United States. Of course, I wasn’t alive then, but the harrowing stories are reenacted on TV every September 11th.

On a far more positive note, yesterday, I had the privilege of witnessing a display of hope. Greg, Nancy, and I traveled to a local hospital to meet with a team of specialists. Their objective was to assess whether Greg was a suitable candidate for a device implanted beneath his collarbone to stimulate his paralyzed hand and arm. The test took an extended period, so I settled in the small office.   Unfortunately, the procedure is not available at a nearby hospital, so we would have to travel a considerable distance to undergo it. Consequently, I’m unlikely to be able to accompany Greg as a therapy dog. On an interesting note, I overheard the hospital staff say, “She may not be a ‘service dog,’ but she certainly is a service/therapy dog!”

Well, we managed to mow the lawn despite the wet weather with occasional drizzles. Nothing deters me from playing fetch with Nancy while she mows. Now, I’ll finish this blog and hang out with Greg since Nancy is going to teach this afternoon.