It's Friday. So glad. A cat hollers--which means some kind of attention needed Cats need to get a job. Their litter doesn't grow on trees--well--hmm.I could go on about work. How I still wonder how I grew to be one of the older statesmen on my team. Just when did I cross from the Eternity Lake of my 20's to Put on Reading Glasses to Read Ingredients on Food Carton Pool? More angry at myself I'm in this situation. Which I just need to crush the cycle. I do think think I disappointed one of the young ladies today that I didn't want to thrust the peace sign with my fingers and say, "Peace out, yo." I choose not to be the cool mom who hangs out with her daughters' chums. When did the grown up stuff really begin?
Tish tosh. That's a topic for another day.
Hey, it's a week before Christmas. And I want to hear Nat King Cole sing a song that so reminds me of Christmas memories with my Dad. I've not been back to Iowa, for Christmas, since 2001. Two months after his passing. I miss it at times--yet I went home to spend that time with him. Now his spirit spends Christmas in my heart--everyday.
Cue up Nat.
