It’s the season to be jolly; the kick off of a new year filled with hope and high expectations. In keeping with these pretentious premises, I’m delivering a blog dripping with optimistic, uplifting, encouraging, positive, redundant words.
I’m planning a trip to Barnes & Noble where—abracadabra—my gift certificate will disappear. The thought of my mailman sticking the highest credit card bill of the century in my mailbox is banned from my mind. (Again.)
I’m draping this blog with symbolic holly and filling it with bright starts, new beginnings, resolutions and…
(Oops. I temporarily lost my positivity or I was truly giddy and started rhyming.)
I’m sitting in my parent’s kitchen in Littleton, Colorado admiring the snow-dusted Blue Spruce in their backyard and the poinsettia on the counter. Jazz is swinging softly in the background. The lights from the tree are casting a gentle, rainbow glow on my face. (That may not be true but happy blogs require fabrication in my world.)
RJ and my parents are chatting in the background while my parents begin to prepare a belated Christmas dinner. Their chatter isn’t distracting, irritating, interrupting my train of thought and my mother is not frustrated because she can’t get the goddamn, sixteen pound turkey to fit in the roasting pan.
I won’t allow complaints to enter my preconditioned negative, nay, realistic brain. I won’t break my promise and wreck this blog with bad juju. I will end on a positive note and wish everyone a Happy New Year.
And—rah, rah, shish, kum, bah—do not think about the mailman stuffing bills in your mailbox.
Causes Jules Jacob Supports
CASA of Southwest Missouri, Master Gardeners of the Ozarks, University of Missouri Master Gardeners, Missouri Court Appointed Special Advocates Association...