I will reluctantly admit that October is gone. Now and only now will I say out loud the name of the next holiday — Thanksgiving. There.
I have been known to moan and sigh over my children being grown up and gone. I frequently think longingly of bygone days when they were little and the fun we had. It’s a classic case of selective memory.
I just read a press release on some brilliant, splendid students hereabouts who are doing a wonderful thing to help children far across the globe. It makes me proud to hear of such things and heartened that such gracious, caring youngsters are preparing to take over our world.
It appears I am a wanted felon. OK, not a felon, just a wanted infraction flaunter.
I know it would have hurt his feelings if I had laughed out loud. So I didn’t – but I wanted to.
I know a lot of you like to take potshots at the greeting card companies. In the midst of any given holiday madness, I have searched for a handy scapegoat, myself.
I’m going to start my own cooking show. When I say a recipe is simple, lazy cooks everywhere will know I mean four steps or less. In other words, just this side of take-out.