Lift-off

Our morning walks take us over this bridge, along a path next to the RR track, and to the truck plant where we check out the ever-changing line up of brand new Western Star and Frieghtliner trucks ready to roll out of the yard. We stand there often enough that today a driver stopped to offer us a look at an all electric truck. Looks just like the others only silent. 
Today was the first day of a new watercolor class that I loved, and in a new studio (for me), and where I felt so at home: High Low Art Space at SE 34th and Belmont.
I visited my poor, old aunt, too, and went away with sadness, hurt feelings, and relief. Dorothy will be 99 in late February and has been languishing in a very dreary nursing home for 9 years. She orders me out and has no other visitors. A fate none of us wants: unhappy and alone. 
So next I went over to brother Ron's to commiserate and talk about home repairs and the way-too-many toys everywhere. He and Sara babysit two toddler grandkids.