When we weren't looking, March crept up on us. It's not that we weren't waiting for it since November, but what with the holidays and the cold and snow that's been occurring since, we were sort of distracted. However, here we are, the weekend when we jump ahead one hour. Aside from people feeling cheated out of precious sleeping time, I don't really hear anyone complaining about the fact Sunday night, we'll see daylight after 7 p.m. and that's got to be good news to most!
This week may seem more like therapy for Chuck than anything else, but I'm hoping many of you can identify with my thoughts this week. And truth be told, as I begin to write this, I am not even sure I can make this topic work. However, if you're reading this, I guess I felt fairly successful! The topic? Well, as I was thinking about it, a quote from one of my favorite '70s movies came to mind. "Endings are just beginnings backwards." Operative word being "endings."
We have arrived at the weekend of Opening Ceremonies and "Let The Games Begin!" Winter or summer, I love the Olympics. In another life, I believe I might have been an Olympian. If you're laughing, I'll wait for you to catch your breath. Done? OK. In a parallel universe where there's another you and you and you and ... me, the Olympics are taking place as well, but some of us are participants rather than observers. The question is in what event would our doppelgangers (our duplicates for you non-sci fi folks) be entered? Hmmm...
This marks the fourth of my five December columns. Once again this year, I have decided to give you a Christmas present of a new short story I've written. Could this be book No. 4 next year? Hard to say, but options are open, and I'm inclined to listen to people's reaction to this new tale. I hope you like it. It was written for you. It will come to you in five parts. Patience. And now, I am hoping you'll enjoy... "It WAS A Wonderful Life...In Rosemount!" - Chuck "This is where I met Rose." Harold spoke as if speaking only to himself.
It's November. And if you're reading this on Saturday, Nov. 4, then I'm likely sitting inside the student center at RHS, watching hundreds of people who come calling for this annual event each and every year on the first Saturday of November. The RHS Choir sponsors this Arts and Crafts show each year. This year marks the third year Andre and I have participated. I've never really shared with you the process of how our three books came to be nor have you been given insight into various pages from the three books. I thought perhaps this would be an appropriate time to do so.
You know what separates dogs from cats? Let me enlighten you. Dogs care. Dogs warn us when rough patches are going to happen. We hear "Ruff, Ruff!" They're saying, "Look out. Rough times ahead. Be careful!" Yup. That's what dogs do. Cats, though, couldn't care less about rough times for their owners. All this time we think they've been saying, "Meow." That's not what I'm hearing. I'm hearing, "Now!" Not "Meow." "Now!" Yup. That's the difference between dogs and cats. And that's how I'm starting this week's column about my cat, Willy.
I think it's beginning to happen. I'm losing touch with my former place of employment. Yup! Another retiree who has one less year of retirement under her belt sent me a text on Thursday night, indicating the need to be smiling because we weren't at conferences. Sure enough. It was time for the first round of conferences already and I never even gave them a thought. I must be slipping away from that experience. However, her text sent me reminiscing as I thought about what conferences meant and how they changed very little over the years.