My mother, Evie Busk, was a perpetual fount of pithy sayings which could be deployed at each and every appropriate moment: A stitch in time saves nine; Children are to be seen but not heard; God helps those who help themselves; Look before you leap. The list is seemingly endless. Because many of my readers are in what my daughter-in-law refers to as my demographic, you probably heard all those things growing up as well, and that’s exactly why this blog’s for you, babe.

Pat Hall has been my best friend since fourth grade when her family moved into a house more or less a block from ours. From our place on Yuma Trail, I would go out the front gate, walk down the path between our house and Mrs. Corbett’s garage, cross Cole Avenue, walk past the east side of Harriet Smith’s house, duck through their carport and into their backyard. (FYI, blocks as such aren’t really a thing in Bisbee, Arizona!)

I spent a lot of time at Pat’s house. For one thing, there were only two kids in their family as opposed to seven in mine. It turns out, my readers have been in Pat’s house, too, because I based Joanna’s childhood home, the one Eleanor lived in both as a wife and a widow, on the McAdams family home on Campbell Avenue.

As I said, Pat and I met in fourth grade and were thick as thieves from then on. In Miss Stammer’s fifth grade class room, we used folded up wire hangers to pass notes back and forth. After going home for lunch, we’d each eat a garlic dill pickle on our way back to school. I’m sure we reeked every afternoon.

We walked back and forth to grade school and rode together during high school. Our senior year we were co-editors of the school newspaper, the Copper Chronicle. After high school we remained friends, seeing each other through marriages—two each—and divorces—one for me and two for her. She had a teaching degree and spent most of her career teaching kindergartners how to read, bless her!

For years now, she’s lived in Florida with a miniature poodle named Hazel. Last week, coming home from the grocery store, Pat felt funny—as though something wasn’t quire right. She made it out of the car and into the house where she collapsed with a stroke. She lay on the floor for close to twenty-four hours before she managed to drag herself over to her purse and use her phone to call for help. She’s now in the hospital and recovering. It sounds as though she should make a good recovery, but had she been treated sooner, the damage might have been less extensive

And why was her phone in her purse? Because, as most women know, the pockets on ladies’ clothing are only for show. They’re not deep enough or wide enough to hold anything useful. That’s one of the reasons I usually carry my cell phone in my bra!

So here’s the stitch in time part. CARRY YOUR PHONE WITH YOU AT ALL TIMES! No pockets? No problem! My daughter carries hers on a lanyard around her neck. It’s called Gear Beast. It consists of a lanyard similar to name tags lanyards used at conventions, but the bottom is a stretchy web made up of nylon cords that holds the phone in place. If you live alone and don’t have access to a cell phone, you can avail yourself of one of those life alert systems that allow you to call for help at the push of a button.

I spend an hour and a half almost every day walking outside my myself, marching along mostly on the driveway or other hard concrete surfaces. And yes, I did fall once, on the steps going down to the fish pond. On that occasion I was able to get myself up and drag myself inside, but the only thing that saved me from banging my head on the edge of the steps was having my hair in a bun, and the bun is the part that hit the step. If I had knocked myself silly, Bill would not have been able to hear me or see me from inside the house.

As of yesterday, I’m now wearing an Apple Watch. It makes me think of that long ago car used dealership on South Sixth Avenue in Tucson—Ugly but Honest. My Apple Watch isn’t a thing of beauty, but it comes with an important capability. If I take a tumble, the watch notices and sends me a text: “I see you’ve fallen. Are you okay?” If I don’t text an appropriate response within a minute, the watch automatically dials 911, and because of the watch’s GPS system, emergency responders will be able to find me.

Apple Watches are expensive. I’m lucky to have one, but wearing your cell phone on a lanyard is a cost-effective alternative.

If any of this sounds at all familiar or like it might possibly apply to you, I urge you to make Evie proud and take action now, because it’s true. A stitch in time really does save nine.

PS. Last week I heard from a fan in Kansas City. He’s a school bus driver who, at my urging, has taken up walking while waiting for his passengers to show up. Two weeks ago, while walking he, too, felt like something “wasn’t right.” After a trip to the doctor, he’s now has three stents aiding his heart’s blood pumping capability.

So maybe there’s another possible saying for you: Reading blogs can save lives! If not yours, maybe that of a friend or neighbor.

PS. Last week I heard from a fan in Kansas City. He’s a school bus driver who, at my urging, has taken up walking while waiting for his passengers to show up. Two weeks ago, while walking he, too, felt like something “wasn’t right.” After a trip to the doctor, he’s now has three stents aiding his heart’s blood pumping capability.

So maybe there’s another possible saying for you: Reading blogs can save lives! If not yours, maybe that of a friend or neighbor.