Love Ya, Don’t Change, Baby!

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Aside from being COMPLETELY f**ked up from “springing forward”, this was a lovely weekend.  Don’t mess with my space/time continuum, man.  It’s a delicate balance.  It is whatever time it is, not an hour later.  Don’t make me late for stuff.

Took Thing One to lunch and to Romni Wool on Friday.  He has developed an interest in weaving.  I got him a drop spindle as well, and showed him some spinning basics.  On Saturday, we went to Ikea to get him a new bed (courtesy of Dave’s Truck).  A guy needs a decent bed, and a decent mattress.  If you don’t have a good night’s sleep, nothing else is right all day.  Fantastic to see him, I’m still gobsmacked that one of my kids is a grownup.  An actual, real-live, rent-paying grownup.  It doesn’t mean I’m old.  I’m actually just a seven-year-old with a forty years’ experience.

I am chronically, hopelessly romantic; a cruel trick for fate to play on someone of such coarse appearance! I have learned that it takes a lot of guts to admit you love someone.  It makes you vulnerable to self-doubt and pain, but really, it’s all there is.  So, we try and try again.  Hope!

I don’t think I’m just talking about romantic love, either.  I have few friends who have really stood the test of time, usually through faults of my own.  But I’m getting better at making them, and keeping them, as I get older.  Now that I really don’t care what anyone thinks of me, people seem to think much more highly of me.  Ain’t THAT ironic?

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