The snow is blowing across my hotel window and I am again in Chicago.
I have been made to think about the things I have missed in life lately. It seems that pushing them to the back of my mind just will not do. Maybe it is winter or maybe my birthday this month. I just see myself as the end of my own short branch of the family tree. No one will long for the old times when I have past. No one will be my present to the world.
So to night as the snow flys and the wind blows raise a glass of wine and toast to destiny, happy or sad it is living.
And if you read this you are very very beautiful.
I have been made to think about the things I have missed in life lately. It seems that pushing them to the back of my mind just will not do. Maybe it is winter or maybe my birthday this month. I just see myself as the end of my own short branch of the family tree. No one will long for the old times when I have past. No one will be my present to the world.
So to night as the snow flys and the wind blows raise a glass of wine and toast to destiny, happy or sad it is living.
And if you read this you are very very beautiful.
Are you talking to me?
*turns on her Joe Pesci voice*
Am I funny to you? Funny how?
*back to my own voice*
What's it like in Chicago..well, besides the snow? Are you in the city or in the burbs? Most of my mother's side of the family lives in that city...crazy people I tell you.
My little Mad Max is recovering well and he thanks your Golden and your wonderful kitty. He's very grateful for everyone's wishes.