Holiday season makes me crazy and moves me to shift to drive-by mode for a lot of things, this being one of them. So today I need to pause and neaten up the area on an item I've been dragging around since July (!) and got to put to bed, technically close to bed, yesterday afternoon. I'll know in a couple of weeks the exact date when Sigrid and I get to actually read a bedtime story in the past tense and turn the page on the whole episode, but here's to hoping.
And for having any hope at all I have to thank Alan and Victoria even if I had no idea who Victoria was the first time she called me on my cell (which rarely rings and that's a good thing for the caller). She's a person whose energy just catches you up and when I answered the phone I felt as if I were joining a conversation already in progress.
I initially assumed she was either an encyclopedia salesperson or a Jehovah's Witness but felt it would be impolite in either event to interrupt her until she was finished. The irony was that when she neared her conclusion, she mentioned our son and it was then that I realized who she was and, no, I didn't get a deal on a thesaurus. But she did figure out I had had NO idea as to who she was. That took some living down.
Almost five months to the day after I held my breath and Sigrid held her nose and we both jumped, we stuck the landing, in the purest sense of the US Air Force truism and the weight has disappeared. Despite Jackson's insistent assertion to the contrary, I don't pretend to know the dynamics within and without the practice (and whoever said 'practice makes perfect' hit it right on the head) but I would emphasize I can think of two of whom I am at this moment extremely fond.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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