With autumn just around the corner most of us have a list of things to accomplish before the end of the season.

Following our hot and dry summer, and no rain, I wonder if we might be gifted with an Indian summer. A real Indian summer is a period of warm and sunny days after the first frost.

The accepted idea is there must be a temperature of 70 degrees Fahrenheit for seven days after the autumnal equinox. Up our way it can be from September, October and into November. Down in southern states it could be in what would be our springtime.

I still remember breathtaking walks in the fall as a child in Seattle. The teacher would line us up by pairs and we held our partners hands, never straying from our assigned places.

There is nothing like a cool, sunny afternoon walk with gold-and-rust colored maple leaves crunching solidly underfoot. Oh those were the days, my friends, simple pleasures that last a lifetime.

Our pond is down from the absence of liquid sunshine even though a few days of August rain did make a pretense of giving a little relief. One year we had just the opposite with so much rain that the pond ran over the top of our 12-foot-deep spring, and spilled into the neighbor’s field creating a new pond.

But “no problem.” Our friend John told Don, “don’t worry the cows will love it.” The one thing I really do enjoy is hearing the frogs singing their anthems in the spring after the rains. On a moonlit night it’s quite romantic to sit under my big cedar sentinels and watch the moon ripple across the pond, listening to their serenade – that is until some bull frog starts singing his love song out of sync with others, sometimes going on half the night.

Time is whizzing by, and it seems these days the older we get, the busier we get. Some of us have home chores to take care of, some are care givers (God Bless ’em) but we also have outside activities, exercise classes, church and charity work. And, of course, doctor, glasses and dental appointments in between.

Some are taking care of grandchildren to help their young families out. And to think they call us retired old folks. (Yeah, sure!) I’m always telling my gal pals that if I passed away I wouldn’t have time for it because there are too many things left to do. St. Peter standing at the Pearly Gates doesn’t care how long I hang around down here, as I’m sure he’s dreading my list of questions I intend to carry with me.

I hope something comes of the health package Congress is working on. I feel so selfish sometimes because Don and I have great coverage. We had Group Health before Medicare though our union and now have both in our later years. I like our HMO and feel they have been very good to us. We both believe everyone should have not just jobs, food, and a roof, but affordable health care.

There has been so much waste, fraud and over payments it’s time to speak up and say “enough is enough already.” I’m tired of these pharmaceutical companies running us like they own us.

These stupid scare tactics going on are ridiculous, and as far as Living Wills and the like, I say they are the greatest gifts to give our families in making it easier to deal with our end days. So Democrats, we say run with it and give the little guy a break. Call me liberal if you like, but I call myself a humanitarian.