This is our friend, Frances. She lived alone in a nearby house until about a year ago. She is nearly blind – can see shadows a bit – but reveled in visitors. She and Gary would have about an hour of conversation on weighty matters just about every day. She is now in a care home in downtown Sierra Vista, so it is still possible to visit with her, although not so often.
He is able to visit about once a week, and reads to her out of the current week’s edition of “New Scientist”. Her mind is still very sharp, and, not being able to read on her own, she thirsts for knowledge in many areas, science being one of her favorites.
Her birth day was July 16th, 1914, so last week she turned one hundred years old. Gary had been working on her birthday card (above) before he went into the hospital; as it turned out, he was still in there when the actual day rolled around. But Thursday he finished off the mounting of one of his favorite photographs onto foam core board, and yesterday he paid her the weekly visit. Her room was full of flowers and balloons proclaiming her amazing achievement of reaching one hundred years of age!
We wish you many more years, Frances! ;-> Don’t you just love that infectious smile of hers?
The photo on the card was taken in April of 2010 at Elephant Butte Lake State Park in New Mexico, when we were spending some extended time there. It is almost impossible to see in this rendition, but there is a tiny sailboat smack dab in the middle of the lake. The owner of this boat was parked near to us, and almost every day he took that boat down and sailed around the lake. Gary kept an eye on this, and formulated his plan to take his camera and tripod down to the lake shore to capture a photograph.
This turned out to be more difficult than he had planned for, but he persevered, taking about six shots to make them into the panorama that you see. This has been one of his favorite pictures, and he has spent time off and on during the ensuing years working to improve it.
The quote on the picture is from Isaac Newton, and says:
“I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.”