I am not interested in producing some idealistically embellished recap of the years events or recording my loved one's doings. Suffice it to say that we are all still here plugging away, at least semi conscious of our good fortune here in the great crap shoot of the universe.
I am extremely thankful for the hours of of free time that living in such close proximity to my job affords me. The thought of spending 2 or 3 hours a day just to get to and from work is never far from my mind as I make my 6 to 10 minute jaunt to work. Instead I spend my mornings musing over little thoughts and ideas, toying with subjects ranging from physics to philosophy to food. I hold court on issues with a jury of my own emotions, studying thoughts in the palm of my mind, holding them up to strong light, subjecting them to examination with powerful lenses, dissecting with utmost care their grainy, subconscious constituents.
I leisurely brew a pint of tea while perusing the limitless vocabularic buffet searching for choice morsels to add to my journalistic salads. Here a bit of spice, here a splash of colour. Cracking open the dictionary or thesaurus like some literary monk in a cloistered cell with his bibles, lounging on my pallet as the smell of morning dews waft through my open window. The unobtrusive OM of wheels on the interstate is shattered by the 7 a.m. flyby of a flock of local Canadian geese only 20 feet above our house.
Yes, I am truly thankful that my station in life (for now) does not necessitate daily runs (crawls?) down the eight lane, meat grinder-conveyor belt, freeways that most of my fellow American, workaday-stiffs must. And a very merry stiffmust to you!
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