The other night, we socialized with the neighbors at the Cozy Inn. George, always a stalwart at these events was there too. He regaled the night’s pretty good crowd, with the news of his cabin. A few months ago, he had had a fire and inquiring minds wanted to know. He has reached a settlement with his insurance that include plans for the new cabin and a bill of materials. He still has to select a contractor, but teardown of the old cabin should begin in a week or two. The new place will be slightly larger than the old one, in order to accommodate the county’s new ADA regulations. It will be a framed building and not a log cabin.

I do not know how we got on the subject, but more interesting, at least for me, was George’s recounting of his father’s geriatric softball career. His dad had joined this league with a minimum age of 75 and played until he turned 103. Even more amazing, he played catcher, which is generally considered to be a younger man’s position. George is a tall man, so I figure that his old man was one too. His dad passed a few years ago at 107. The most amazing aspect of this story is that in all of the years of defending the plate, George’s father had three opponents die in his arms there. Me being me, I had to ask, were the runner’s safe or were they out? This question evoked a round of chuckles, and it was eventually agreed that they had all made it safely home, sweet home.