A discouraging development: Pat is back in the hospital as of Friday morning, via the rescue squad and ambulance. It looks like a flare-up of the pneumonia and he's back on antibiotics. About the only (slim) ray of sunshine is that they put him in nice private room with a window overlooking grass and trees. After a rocky first day, he was calm and cheerful yesterday and we actually had a nice time together. I went early, stopped for a Subway sandwich and had lunch with him, then went home to pick up some things for him, and went back until he was served dinner. I then left to keep my dinner invitation from Frank and Barbara next door--hamburgers on the grill. They're wonderful friends and so are Leslie (she and Frank surprised me by pulling out the weeds that had overgrown my mountain pinks around the tree in the front) and Barb H. Yesterday when I got home, I found three exquisite lavender roses in a little vase and a note from her on the porch. Of course, so many others in our little community are just as concerned and supportive. I'm constantly marveling at our good fortune in moving here. It's just incredible that three years ago, we didn't know that these people or this place existed. I'm beginning to think there's something to this "it was meant to be" business, after all.
Lots of phone calls yesterday: from daughters Alison and Ellen and siblings Frank and Betty--the California contingent--as well as niece Joannie and various friends. Sons Patrick and Mike continue to stay in close touch via e-mail and phone, too.