My mom was born on August 3, 1917. Do the math. That means she is 92 years old. She is still very much alive and well in every sense of the word, and is a 20+ year survivor of ovarian cancer. Oh, she gets frustrated at times because she tires more easily and can't walk as fast as I do, but she walks and goes and does. After my father died in 1990, she stayed on the family farm for a couple years before deciding to move to a home in town. She painted the house yellow and white and it became a cottage. She planted a garden in the backyard and always shared delicious treasures with visitors. She stayed there for 16 years until 2009, when she moved to a beautiful two-bedroom condo across from her church. I love her new abode with it's east-facing windows and appealing patio. Usually when I visit her, we stay in and talk as fast as we can because she loves to play hostess and is still the best cook I know.

It is the sweet, simple things in life which are the real ones, after all - Laura Ingalls Wilder
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