Dinner went quickly as we discussed this plan, sotto voce, and alternatives that we might have. Skipping dessert, we went down the street to a Dog 'n' Suds, and let the waitress bring us our banana splits so we could keep focused on the details.

This place let me slide into the past. Service at the car without speakers, servers on roller-skates, big frosted real-glass mugs of good root beer. This specific one had to be 50 years old at least, with none of the 'modernization' it would get in a bigger town. Likely open from April to October as this was snow country, the owner had told me one day all he did in winter was to do snow plowing for other businesses and apartments. What a wonderful life!

We enjoyed the ice cream and root beer and she shared her ideas about how the 'activities' might be structured... and how we could explain it to Doctor Junior to get him on our side. Mostly I agreed, though some seemed a little bit outrageous. Talking about the plans as long as we were had Rusty animated and excited; she was laughing and almost merry. And I'd noticed that every truly happy time like this made her relapses further apart.

Getting home, I made notes and kept track of our discussions, changing dates for things and spreading it to allow the differences in plans. I stored none of this on my on-line accounts, keeping it all on my external hard drive so it was never trackable.