Birthday wishes.
For a certain length of time, I did all my personal consultations in certain restaurant. It was just easier. As I’ve changed, and after a few failed attempts, I’ve moved locations, shifting and changing venues, hopefully meeting the criteria of specific charts. And what’s easy for me.
For some time, I was writing a book in my head, about astrology delineations and chicken-friend steak, obviously a Threadgill’s reference. “Afternoons at the dinner: (then something about astrology).” Never worked it out, and then, I shifted venues. Although, it’s nice, when there’s a wait, I get a nod of notice and appreciation from a head manager, and I know that the seating hostess usually works Sunday nights, and she’s an Aquarius.
Or that our server was a Virgo, as Threadgill’s was one of the only places open for T-Day feast. In keeping with tradition, Pa Wetzel had proper turkey plus a story about an aunt of his, where he always had T-Day.
The flip side, though, I was thinking about that book title again. Book’s not done- won’t be – not at this pace – but the world continues to unfold. T-day was a delightful afternoon at Threadgill’s then a spin out to the wildflower place, which was closed, then back to the hotel for a nap, then out for a quick dash to find out nothing was open. Some surprise there.
Watched the last portion of a Cowboy’s game.
I pointed out that the cowboy’s win was an indication of a future economic trends.
I had to explain the theory to Pa Wetzel, and I did point out, it was just as valid as, say, my astrology.
Black Friday Bitterness.
Only, I’m not bitter, not this time.
The other evening, my folks were trying really hard not to talk about a mutual friend. Which, it became abundantly obvious to me, might be that I spend so much time in personal consultations, but I could tell that there was something that needed saying that wasn’t getting said. Something wasn’t getting said to me.
“Oh, just spit it out. You can’t hide it for long; it’ll eat you up inside.”
“She’s getting married. In February.”
“Excellent!” (My reply, heartfelt enthusiasm. No, really. She wanted to be married.)
Which naturally wasn’t the expected response. But flip it over, and look from my side of the coin, former lover is happy, getting what she wants, or, I suspect, what she deserves. Me? I can only wish her the best. From the bottom of my heart. Which is cold and black, if you believe what some folks say. But I would suggest that it’s not germane to this discussion.
I smiled. Life is good to me. Be good to others and see what happens.
