Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis 

For most of my adult life those people that knew both my mother and me, always would say how much I looked like her.  Oh, you have your mother’s legs, hair, eyes, etc. I never minded it at all because my mother was a handsome woman with dancer’s legs, and if it was a choice between having my mother’s features or my father’s, I was pleased with the former.  But that was then and since my mid-sixties, I have steadily begun to metamorphose into my father. 

Gone is the sleek runner’s body, replaced with the fire hydrant look that was my father’s profile. While I still have hair, if you see me in a baseball cap and my green windbreaker, you would  swear that my dad was still with us. I find myself getting up in the morning and instead of jumping out of bed to seize the day, I stand there and do the ‘Pop checklist’ letting my brain see if everything is working and all the parts are in the right place.  I like to think that I’m combining the best of all possible worlds as I glide between parental characteristics.

Speaking of change, it is coming down to the wire as to whether we get out of here before a big snow.  While we were in Florida after the cruise, it snowed quite a bit here but by the time we got home it was all gone. Yesterday I mowed the lawn, mostly just to mulch all the leaves that had covered the yard, so at least the grass is ready for snow even if I’m not.  The forecast for the next two days is wonderful, if cold, so I’m off the hook on snow, unlike our friends in Greensboro, NC which has more than they could ever need.

Our Yellow Vests are packed and we are ready for our arrival in Paris on Thursday.  Hoping they’ll not tear gas Le Train Bleu on Saturday since we’ll be having a birthday luncheon there and I can’t think of a wine that pairs well with tear gas!

Bonne Chance et Joyeux Noël,  Cindy and Wm 

Our Love is Here to Stay