It was a sign of the day to come: I woke up with Jim Croce singing in my head, of all things, “Speedball Tucker,” a song I hadn’t heard in forever. That got me to go look around and find out that Croce‘s wife and baby weren’t on that plane that day and the son is now making his own music. I’m going to have to try it out.
So it was go go go thank you for the news magazine Don good to see you got only ten minutes at knit night to see Purlescence‘s new place (a few doors left of the old) and then the phone buzzes and time to go pick up the daughter across two towns and then go and off to the grocery store, quick.
When the left foot doesn’t quite remember how to keep up and in sync with the right on the treadmill and has to be told consciously to keep the rhythm of the steps then you know maybe I’m a bit tired.
Well, then, keep on walking a good one, that’ll cure that.
I remember how many days I couldn’t possibly have managed any of today, just an ordinary day, and I tell you, life is good.