Tuesday, August 26, 2007 – Cloudy, cool. Paula wants us to get long-term health insurance, as she is writing a book on the choices people make for their aging parents, and she is more conscious of the cost of long-term health care these days, and doesn’t want us to burden Emma down the road. Paula is wise and sensible in most things, and we have been talking about this a lot, as it makes me uneasy. I am the age Thomas Merton described as beginning to be old. Anthony calls me the Old Man and so does my daughter Emma. If I were really old, they would find another term, but I can definitely see it coming and so can they.
  This year I feel so much better than last year. Since being diagnosed with diabetes, I have lost a lot of weight, my back no longer hurts much and I have much more energy. I am eating well and enjoying that, and am shocked at the change in how I feel. I never ate junk food much, but was not nearly as aware as I am now of the good feel of vegetables, fruit and grains. I often thought people who talked this way were a bit woo-woo. Not any more. Spending the week at the county fair, I saw people eating fried veggies, corn dogs, funnel cakes and other forms of processed and fried dough and sugar, and the sight of it made me queasy.
  I have no truck with self-righteous people who tell others not to smoke or what to eat, yet you can’t help but wanting to grab people you care about and save them from the fate that nearly befell me. Living on the farm is intrinsically healthy. I walk, do chores, move firewood, am active almost all day. And in the summer, it is easy to get fresh fruit and vegetables and corn and eat well. I feel long term health insurance isn’t really compatible with life up here. It seems defensive to me, part of a process of preoccupation with self and health that I would like to avoid, even as I think more and more about it. It has been Paula’s lot for years to try and bring some sanity and order and common sense to my life. Hard road for her.Yet I think state of mind is important. And working as a hospice volunteer has certain sharpened my awareness of the issues she talks about. 
  I like to think that living on the farm is long-term health insurance. But that is perhaps naive. Paula is rarely wrong about these things, and besides, as a friend told me, who will take care of Elvis and the donkeys if anything happens to me? How many fools will feed a 2,500 steer and his 2,000 pound pals? I don’t know any, but perhaps I ought to get long-term health care and start a trust fund for the animals. Otherwise, I will have to leave them all to Annie.