Continued Confessions

but not of the Catholic type

Okay. It’s the lunch break of the Manhattan trial, so I can finally get to do my Thursday post. I was fully prepared to rant and rave about Mike Johnson earlier this week, but today our local paper reprinted a fabulous editorial from the Chicago Tribune entitled “Courthouse GOP parade is a disgrace.” The editorial writers said everything I was thinking and then some, with more skill and logical dexterity than I could possibly muster in my state of umbrage. So I refer everyone to their masterpiece.

And now that I’m at a loss for words, I’ll just ramble on about everyday existence. I happened to find a bookmark in one of my books on which I had written the quote: “Worrying doesn’t stop you dying; worrying stops you living.” Unfortunately I had not included an attribution, but in searching just now I find there are many variations of a similar thought. It happens to be very apt for me right now because yesterday was the first time in ages that I cried sad tears, and it has taken me a day to shake off the worry that I was building after reading some of MyChart information. Perhaps I should have followed the “ignorance is bliss” mantra instead. Anyway, finding the scribbled-on bookmark was definitely fortuitous and I appreciate the universe taking care of me this morning—as well as friends and family who rallied to assure me that I was being overly dramatic. I went to neither medical nor law school, but I often imagine that I am indeed a doctor and a lawyer. Amazing what the ability to read can conjure up when subject only to the reader’s interpretation. I will continue to research and consult with experts then keep in mind my favorite mantra about living one day at a time. More will be revealed . . .

Yesterday was the 9-month celebration of grandson’s birth, and he is busily crawling around forwards now (I had forgotten his Mum’s stages of learning to ambulate). I suggested a playpen might be in order and was excited this morning to receive pictures of him enjoying his space. Talk about taking things one step at a time.

And a final fun fact: I have tickets to see Ringo! I preceded the Beatles to the States by a few years, having arrived in early 1958, and I just checked and see that they came in February of 1964. Of course, we were all in love with them from their Liverpool beginnings before they traveled here and I felt a somewhat special connection having come from the Isle of Man by way of ferry to Liverpool. Ringo was always my favorite but I have never seen any of them in person. When I heard he was touring with his All Star Band and coming to the Mohegan Sun Casino in the Fall, I was determined to get tickets. I snagged two and now my darling daughter has reimbursed me with more than enough for a lovely dinner beforehand. The only fly in the ointment is that the concert starts much too late for my usual schedule. But I am determined to nap as long as I can in order to get up and see my idol. After all, he’s at least my age and staying up late has kept him going, with a knighthood to boot. Sir Richard Starkey, I will see you in September!!!