reusing, not regenerating

My son has given a grape plant a home in our back yard. Can you guess what it’s latching onto?

My left knee has been feeling its age, I suppose, and complaining to me about it. Our chiropractor examined it thoroughly (“Here, let me push the kneecap over and check beneath.” “Uh, fine; you won’t forget to replace it..?”). No swelling. Only the report that some degeneration of the fluidy stuff in there must be taking place.

Degeneration. Yeah. Suppose that’s the thing to expect more and more. I might escape this season of wearing out, if I only were Dr. Who, with his numerous regenerations. (How many does he have left, now?)

But there’s okayness here, still growing up on the inside, still squeezing muscles as Dr. Blair orders (as opposed to The Doctor, because he’s off in his tardis, and fairly fictional, as it were).

So, anyway, I’ll send you grapes (maybe wine in a few years), if you guess what’s out back becoming our arbor, or, especially, if you know good knee-pain remedies.