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Myra London (69 years), Randy London (69 years), Heidi and Josie (cats)
(Cole London – 48 years, Lucy London – 46 years, Alice London – 9 years, Itzel London – 3 years, Milo London – 1 year, )
Myra London sold her past business endeavors, and has spent her retirement years running only one, the Farmer’s Market. She provided for the greater South Port and Millwood area with produce both at the market, and sold privately to restaurants. Her talent wasn’t just in growing perfect vegetation, cause that had taken years of trial, but in her talent as a business woman. Each business she had ever operated made it to the top of the totem pole in record speed. She had been an organic gardener most of her life, but it wasn’t until it became popular, that she paid the money to be certified.
On this oddly, sunny morning, that’s exactly what this lady is doing in her green house.
She gains her organic certification with honors, now she can proudly display the logo at her market. Instead of Randy just telling the customer’s that they are organic, now they have proof. Which is precisely what the health conscious, expecting mother, Hazel was looking for.
Randy sits in his worn blue chair watching sports, while Myra barely steps inside until after dark. She can’t imagine wasting the summer months in front of the television. She doesn’t even in the winter, the green house that Randy and Cole had built her, has allowed her to follow her passion year round.
They had bought their home when she was expecting Cole, a large three bedroom house with a magnificent view. They had planned to fill their home, the same as her twin sister, Milla had filled hers. It never happened, after several second trimester losses, they called it quits, and raised the son they had.
She’s going to be seventy in a few months; it feels like she’s done a lot. She and Randy traveled the world, she had several lovers before settling down, she had a family. All of those things require time to occur in, but it didn’t seem like it was possible that she would soon be seventy.
Had it really been so long since her and Randy were young loves staring shyly across a restaurant table. Or dancing to the music at a juke box. Now these things were antiques.
Randy didn’t spend time lost in thought over the past. When she had questioned him once about his feelings on turning seventy, he just shrugged that he hadn’t thought much about it. Even now, he holds the conversation while her eyes and mind wander to the guests at South Soda Shop. Everyone seems excited as if they stand on the tip of a great discovery.
Myra gets the odd hair to throw an anniversary party for their immediate family only. It’s their 49th anniversary; she thought it was as good a year as any to celebrate.
They met at Lincoln Park for fishing and barbecue; a light rain fell for most of the morning, but cleared into a magnificent afternoon. Cole cooked the burgers while Myra and Lucy caught up, and the kids played with their Grandpa Randy. After years of worrying and trying, Randy had finally found a common ground with Alice and they were becoming fast friends.
Myra and Lucy took over clean up, while Alice watched her little sister and brother, and the boys went to fish in the little pond. They closed the pond ever few years to allow the fish population to grow; neither man got any fish, Randy got a boot. They guessed that the pond would be closed next year.
After the picnic they were back home again, in their giant house that they filled with two cats over the years. Myra enjoyed her cats, but Randy was thoroughly a cat person. He would tease that if Myra hadn’t accepted his offer, he would have been just fine becoming a “cat man” instead of marrying someone else. Of course, they are both quite happy it never got to that point.
A few days after the picnic Randy started feeling ill. Myra teased that it was probably from the tv dinner he had ate, a kick back memory to his childhood he had said in his defense. Myra wouldn’t touch it, she made almost all of their meals with her produce and whole wheat products, she couldn’t even pronounce the name of the ingredients on the back of the tv dinner box. Randy admitted that the tv dinner hadn’t been his best idea.
The humor of the tv dinner causing Randy to get sick fell away quickly enough. By nightfall he wouldn’t budge from the bathroom floor, and Myra had never seen him as sick as he was in her life. She took him to the ER, and after he threw up several times in the waiting area he was given a room in the back of the hospital to wait for the doctor.
It hadn’t taken long after that point for him to be admitted to the hospital. Dr. Dwyer had gone on about his health being outstanding for his age, always mentioning his age as if everything would be fine if he were younger. And Myra knew, that was probably the truth. Whoever got severely sick from a tv dinner when they were twenty, heck college kids lived off of them.
As it were, Dr. Dwyer did put heavy blame on Randy’s age. It wasn’t just the bad beef in the tv dinner, that would soon be recalled, but his advanced age that had him fall to his demise. He was now a statistic for a fatality, the elderly that were always at risk from food poisoning, the flu; the list went on.
They buried him under the weeping woman statue at Evergreen Cemetary on a fitting, rainy day. Myra wanted a closed ceremony, only with her son and his family in attendance.
Notes: ROS at it’s work here. Randy rolled the unlucky die from poison. I was not impressed on killing him. Sure he lived a long life, but man, Myra’s had it rough these past few years, her twin sister, and now her husband! Ugh. Her house is giant, and really she has no need for such a large house. I don’t know what I’ll do with her. She can’t move in with Cole/Lucy, no room at all. She needs to have space to garden as well. Hrm… (anyone seen a cute little “garden-esque” style home out there for download?)
I was going to write an obituary , cause I have Jared Schehl in the journalism career and his actual job at this very minute is… Obit Writer. How perfect is that? I love how Carla does it, but.. I have like zilch photos of him since he’s always been an elder since I started doing screen capture. So I basically summed up their life together here, and hope it works.
I just want to say about Randy, that he helped Myra with the gardening to the point that he could eventually talk to plants too, and it’s not his passion at all. Now that is a good husband!
Hazel (you can see her in two pics above) is in her third trimester now and still has a tiny (comparatively) bump. I can.not.wait to get that baby born!! Ugh, if I could just skip the next houses just to get to fall, I would!
Before I forget, I checked Simon Millett to see if he was mean (to match his chucky look) and he has 10 points in nice!
And a minor complaint. I’m so annoyed, they must have changed the font on this particular layout, and I HATE how huge it is. Seriously, it’s like my grandma is emailing me. I don’t want to pay to upgrade ether, so I’m sulking.