Some people at the farmer's market were surprised that Elsbeth could wander around during her hip replacement rehab. She uses a walker while looking for bargains in blueberries and peaches and maybe some fresh corn.

It is not easy. We carry a small wooden stool in the trunk and when I place it by the car door she can step on it and grab a strap and hoist herself into the car. To get out she just kind of slides out on her bottom till her feet hit the ground. Then she takes off like a wounded duck and waddles away.

She doesn't need her walker at the supermarket. This week she commandeered one of those electric scooters and had it scooting at least 2 miles an hour. I could not bear watching her so I went over to the magazine rack.

I should never have left her alone. I watched her get underway and she was a little herky jerky so I didn't worry.

When I came back she had run into a big corner display of about a hundred stacked boxes of Cap'n Crunch.

Nobody got hurt, she didn't even get a warning ticket and a clerk picked up the mess.

She reminded me I am not perfect . She is right. When I was 16 my brother brought home his first car, a used 1929 Model A Ford. I was so excited when I saw it parked in our garage I pled with him to let me drive it. When he asked if I knew how I chortled and scoffed at him for not knowing how skillful I was. So he agreed and stood by as I got in and started it. I put it in reverse and stepped on the gas pedal. It roared out of the garage and bolted across the street and smacked a huge woodpile causing serious body damage. He was stunned. In fact he was enraged. "I thought you said you could drive?" he shouted as his cheeks bulged and turned purple. I thought he was going to inflict serious body damage to me

I explained that I could drive but forgot how to stop.

Elsbeth knows how to stop now. She just looks for a big stack of breakfast food.

Speaking of breakfast, I have been elected emperor of the kitchen during her recovery and at breakfast all she wants is toast with peanut butter and jelly and whatever fruit I can find. This assignment insults my culinary skills so I have been trying to bring some more joy into her life by presenting her homely and mundane request with a bit of pizzazz.

Watch out for Elsbeth as she zooms around the market as Jerry cringes at the magazine stand. He can be reached at publisher@robinsonnews.com