So far, we are but three days in to the year and things are looking up. I have as many hopes for this year as a mare has for her frolicking colt. Maybe this year:
I will be able to break radio silence and muse about all the craziness that happened last year;
Kiss salaried labor behind and start another phase of my life;
Watch both my sons become happier in whatever they choose to do with whomever they choose to experience it with (sorry about the preposition);
Pick tons of English roses that perfume the whole house and gladden my heart;
Spend hours of time with my grandsons and more time on the golf course (hopefully blending the two);
Sew little girl dresses;
Continue with my quest for better health and mind;
Laugh till I hurt; and
Spend time with those who love me as much as I love them.
As of now, I will keep plugging away--as I tell my staff: one step at a time; one foot in front of the other. I will know for sure that the fog is leaving just about the time that this year's special order roses come--(more of Lady Emma Hamilton to intoxicate the senses). I will start the summer curtains as an optimist, and will weekly plump up the chintz pillows just in case spring tries to get the jump on me!
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