The Skeeters

The last two weeks have LITERALLY been hell on wheels.  Anne Lamott's latest fb entry is timely for me, putting me back on track just in the nick of time. Lamott suggests that everyone calm the heck down and stop living like water skeeters.  Like a water skeeter, I've been zip zipping along, darting this way and that, hither thither and yon. March Madness.  No way to live.  I'm going to take Lamott's suggestion and sit down, see where I am, and see what I need.

In short, I'm regrouping.  I'm on spring break.  I'm going to visit Mom and Dad down in the south.  I told my dad on the phone today that we might want to head over to the wild animal park that's nearby. He said, "Let me tell you something.  I'm not that crazy about wild animal parks.  Especially since the cat brought a bird in the house this morning and it took me forty minutes of running around after it to get it back outside.  Don't know how I got to this point in my life where I'm running after dogs, cats and birds at 87 years old."

       So I'm not sure we'll be going to the wild animal park, but I will tell you this.  We're going to have fun and we're going to knock off this water skeeter nonsense, and we're going to be blogging regularly, so pop back if you get a chance.  If you want to.   Happy Spring Break Dearhearts.