When the heart speaks......

Welcome to my Saturday. Very rare for me to have time on my hands on a Saturday, and of course, when I say, "time on my hands" I mean "time to do all the things I should be doing when I'm off doing what I HAVE to do in order to have someplace to come back to so I can be in that place and wish I had time to do the things I WANT to do."

Same old song. Grab a partner and dance.

But the laundry is cooking in its laundry machine, and the menu has been planned for the evening. The dishes are still staring at me like the Fulton Fish Market on a Wednesday morning, and there's the lawn that needs one last mowing before fall is over and winter begins.

45 degrees is NOT conducive to me mowing a lawn. But, once again, HAVE to vs WANT to.

Dance, my minions, DANCE.

But the pumpkins are on the porch, and my knives have been sharpened, even though I'm pretty sure I'll get to it on Thursday or Friday....they rot so quickly these days. And the children are just going to have to put up with M&M's because I know, I JUST KNOW that I'll be nibbling before, during and after.

I've been thinking lately about children. OTHER PEOPLE'S children, mind you, for we have not been blessed. So, I live in a kind of vicarious world where I watch my friends and relatives children.

What an interesting thing it is to see the passage of time in the face of another human being. And equally interesting is to see how these people, who joined me regularly in a howl at the moon in our younger days, become.......heroes and security agents and cooks and cleaners and cheerleaders and first aid technicians and truly remarkable people.

And they speak with such adoration about these little humans, these carbon copies and yet not; and I find myself envying those people who go through their lives and the lives of their children with gusto and fear and stress and unadulterated joy.

My friends are to be envied, and pedastaled, and when the clock chimes midnight, surrounded by the love they give, magnified and returned.

Happy Birthday, Dad. And thank you, thanks beyond the giving of it.