Life Happens

Tonight was a glorious night. Not because of any exotic activity. Not because my craving for the experiential edge was somehow quenched. No. It was glorious simply because it was filled with life.

Checking in with many of my folks on the way home . . . yes I talk on the cell while driving but when the ride home is at less than 10 miles per hour due to "rush hour" traffic, I don't feel that guilty about it. (And I've been known to tell whoever I was speaking to that they have to wait between my legs for a few moments while both hands are on the wheel to take care of any nasty turns or situations.) Anyway, checking in helped me to see that while all wasn't well with everyone of them, they knew they were loved.

Arriving home, I met G for a walk/talk that had us acknowledging none of our crew lacked issues, we loved them all, and if left in charge of the world, we could solve practically everything!

We came back home to toast his acceptance into the schooling option of his dreams. At 50+ this is a BIG deal for him. We're pumped. And, yes, WE are pumped. I've already volunteered to help him through speech classes. The bottle we opened was recommended by a wine loving friend of mine. My palate isn't quite "there" yet because the "oaky, grassy, citrus" flavor just tasted like too much alcohol to me.

But I'm ready to learn and this same friend popped in midway through the "Biggest Loser" (I wanted Gary to win because of his personality, his family and his new arms, but alas, it was the other guy) and helped me see why I wasn't quite into the chosen white. She was also here to check out my kitchen. You see we're having a wine/food pairing party next week and she and her chef boyfriend are doing all the wine selections and cooking. So we talked wine for a while, mourned Gary's loss, and then G went on his way to leave R & I to the details. Calls came and went as we discussed my plethora of tableware and lack of knives. And those calls represented sadness and much celebration.

And through it all, life happened. As I sat in my jean shorts and T-shirt at my antique library table, drinking my "good-but-not-great" glass of wine, life happened. And it was good.