Playing for Time

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Fridays will always hold a special place in my heart because they signal the arrival of Saturday and Sunday, the two days when I do even less than on the other five but suffer zero guilt for it. Over a lifetime I earned my weekends, and once they’re yours, they’re yours, so I squander them freely whenever possible.

This morning dawned bright and sunny, despite the fact that we had a mini-blizzard overnight. Precisely as the KU v Howard bball game tipped off, while it was still daylight and 58° outside, the air became filled with sideways snow. Slightly bizarre, but so very Kansas. Most of it made it to Amarillo by morning, but the grassy areas are still white, melting fast.

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A Happy St. Paddy’s Day to one and all, says the girl in the lime(rick) green T-shirt bearing the word “sláinte” and a shamrock, gifted to her by her baby sister. Life is good, right here, right now. Celebrate and enjoy!

St. Patrick’s Day strikes me as an ideal occasion for bravery and self-certainty, because how else have the Irish survived? I’m proud and happy to claim a dose of emerald DNA from my mom’s dad… that heritage and my German stoicism have brought me this far and I trust will not fail me at this late date.

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A complete poem in one sentence, and can we not all say the same in total honesty? It’s what’s meant by the solitariness of being human and it seems to be largely unavoidable.

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Another precisely-stated bit of poetry:

Speaking from personal experience, never mistake small stature and a quiet demeanor for weakness or ignorance, otherwise, in the wise words of our ancestors, the road will eventually rise up to meet your face. That’s what all the little leprechauns want you to have as your takeaway today, don’t disappoint them. And easy on the green beer.

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An appropriate slice of melancholy before I let you go enjoy your day and your weekend: