Good morning...

The cold snap has passed for the time being. Overnight lows in 40’s. Definite improvement. And this morning noticed a robin in the front yard and very small pears in the top of the tree that bloomed after hurricane Ike. Bird food in the making.
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I had thought of getting a tattoo at various times in my life. Yes, one of those discretely placed just so cutesy butterflies. The fact that always brought that thought to a screeching halt was wrinkles and sagging. I just couldn’t face (depending on which discrete place it was located) a droopy butterfly. I knew that when I reached the antiquated 58 or 59, it would not be a pretty sight. Now where this is going…while looking at my aged right hand, I noticed an odd arrangement of age spots. I’m sure you have done it…connect the dots (and if you haven’t I don’t need to be reminded that I am one bubble off level). ~ yes, there is a butterfly on my right hand at the base of the thumb. And as more cracks and crevices {fondly referred to as wrinkles} appear, all I have to do is wash the age-spot-tattoo off. Life is oh so good in the quirkiest ways.

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