Everything will go

Over the long weekend, I recollected to Eamon some of the history of my sisters'  younger years,  their travels, where they went to college, their political and social activities.  All because his actress, whom he had purchased a plane ticket for, did not come in to shoot some scenes, and cancelled on extremely short notice.  Thusly, we had a bunch of opportunities  to sit on the deck and languish after working hard in the garden, and on the yard.  I reflected on what I can piece together or remember of their teens and twenties.
Of course,  a lot of it is blurry or probably even wrong, but I wanted to share with him what I think I knew, and what I both admired about them,  and or was troubled by in my experience as their younger sister.
My oldest sister is going to be sixty next week, and  fifty three  for me in about a month.  Most of my memories are now pretty remote, and I imagine as I get older will fade considerably.

A bottle full of lean

A couple of the blogs that I read, and judge of course, have gone off the air, or at least, they have significantly limited their posts, due to other jobs, or a shift in their experience, that makes it not so much of a desire or  interest  to share quite so much with the rest of the world.
These, as opposed to this one, have thousands of readers, so, there is a  financial component,  and the other, is the regular readers, who like me this morning, when my coffee shop was closed for remodeling, feel a tinge of betrayal.
It’s natural to live with our patterned behaviors, that make us “regulars” and known by name, especially as we age, and fall into routines like manholes without covers.
I thought this morning, this crisp, clear morning, where suddenly everything is green, about how often I may say the same things, year after year, a little shift here, a little clarity there,  that if I have forgotten, or repeated myself a few times, I can get past that.