A quickie. I’ve been busy working the author-bit, hopping between Examiner, Design Media, HubPages, MobyWho, a few blogs, and keeping up with Facebook and Twitter.
For the past three nomadic years, Cor and I have had a wonderful time, but you know the old saying: “A rolling stone gathers no moss.” The only moss we’ve gathered is mold. One of the reasons we have moved back to Burlington is because that is where most of our old Champlain Marina friends are. However, since we’ve been back, stuck in a motel for assorted reasons, we really haven’t had much of a social life.
A couple of weeks ago, we moved into a senior living place called “The Pines” and have been barricaded since then by piled up boxes of “stuff”. We’ve seen a few people in the hallways and elevator, but just enough to say “Hi” and try to get their first name; forget last.
But today? WooHoo! We’ve been invited by our friend Sy Simonds to join a group for Happy Hour, “a pause in the day’s occupation” to quote Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Of course, Longfellow was referring to the children’s hour. But as it turns out, I am the child. Tomorrow, I turn 80, and at The Pines, I am the child.
Seems that Sy called Helen, the Happy Hour organizer, who then called me. In addition to the formal invitation, Helen filled me in on the customs: BYOB, a snack to share, ice if you use it, meet on the porch at 5:00. As the lightening bug said when he backed into the electric fan, “I’m delighted, no end.” (Sorry folks, old jokes tickle me.)
Now, this is what we have been waiting, yea, yearning for – a chance to just sit and shoot the bull with our contemporaries. The ranks are growing thinner.
I’ll keep my ears open and report any juicy tidbits I pick up. Of course, I won’t know who they are talking about and I certainly won’t remember them, but what the hey, it’s a PARTY!