And, I got nothing. Not about the title, anyway, just had to throw that in there to see if one of my most fun coworkers will actually read this blog, and not just send me youtube links via facebook. There are more websites than just two, John, and personally, this little blog is mighty and cute. Just like me.
So, titles aside, the last few days have been pretty good. I should always just spend time with my family whenever I get blue. My four brothers, sister, mom, and friend Beck (who has been my friend so long and with my family through holidays and deaths that she is now family) can always get me back to myself, my best self. Friday was spent skiing with Cathy, Sarah, Lindsay, Mark and Loren. I fell down a few times, but as I wrote Louis, even falling is fun. Then, I went home to a mysteriously shoveled driveway. Whoever did that for me, thank you. On to Loren's and Katie's, singing zombie Christmas carols and making jokes with my family at each other's expense. One of the highlights was my mom, announcing she wants to be a coyote. She meant cougar. And she didn't really mean it.
Watched movies with Mark, Karl and Mom on Christmas Day, and got to cuddle Cathy. This rarely happens, anymore, and is a great gift when it does. It's Cathy's friends who run toward me to deliver the first hug of the day, sometimes knocking me over. It's Cathy's bestie Matt who dances with me like the Charlie Brown Christmas. Cathy herself is usually aloof, but on Christmas she had several nice gifts, two she especially liked, and that made her inclined to let me hold her on the couch and rock her a little. She's not too big yet; never will be, whatever she thinks.
So, yeah, this is an uneventful blog. I've not been ruminating or brooding or anything for a few days, though I probably will write a broody blog after I get my last Christmas gift, a big one from Becky. She is sending me to a local psychic for an intense life reading. She has promised to come with me for this, and even though I am still at heart a Catholic girl, there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, not to wonder what psychic Betty Bouda can tell me about myself. If she, too, tells me I need to work on myself first, I will take it to heart.