The plan, Rick, is to leave my beloved swamp and move to town. I've lived here for 40 years so it's really a difficult decision. But the kid moved out and I'm alone here now. That last fall scared the living crap out of me. I thought I'd broken my back and the phone was across the room. I had to drag myself to it on my elbows and call for help.
I couldn't get up. That's pretty helpless feeling.

The ex has a little handicap friendly house already remodeled to accommodate a cripple. It's three blocks from the historic downtown district where most of those events I listed take place. It comes with a nice power wheelchair. A dear friend of ours died before he ever got to come back home.
The manual chair is for exercise mostly. Nothing wrong with my upper body and it looks like a good core workout wheeling around in one of those. The sidewalks are all new and are wheelchair friendly so I'll be able to move about the neighborhood freely. It's four blocks from where I grew up so it'll be kind of like going back home. The city shuffleboard courts are right next door!!!

When Roscoe dies I'm outa here. Or maybe when he gets as crippled as me, it has a huge fenced back yard and I can have 5 chickens. No need to rush, but I've got to face the inevitable.

Good coffee, good weed, and time on my hands...