I know this might sound silly, but what the heck, I'm used to people laughing at me.

I don't post very often, and it's a darn shame. Not for my readers, but for me. Whenever I do post, a mutant writing-endorphin surges through me. It's like I'm serving up a slice of my life for friends to chew on, hopefully savor. I cherish comments, the feedback. It's Christmas year 'round. *surge* *surge*

I've never kept a diary (would've probably lost the key, anyway), or a journal. I really, really regret that omission in my life. Upon reflection, my life has been an interesting journey - mind you, no more interesting than others'. But when I read your posts, I connect. Some empty place in my life, my heart, is filled... or validated. Merci.

I hope I do the same for you.

*****

In October, on my cross-country solo trip, I stopped in Kansas City to visit my son and his beautiful young family. On the first morning while I read the KC Star, I had my first and last twinge of homesickness for Southern California. I loved the LA Times. Not all was wasted, though. In the Health/Life section, I read and clipped the following:

INTERACTIVE FRIENDS

My husband and I love trying new sports. So, when we heard about Beagling, which involves a group of people out in the country running after beagles that are chasing rabbits, all the while shouting “Tally-ho” – we knew we had to see what it was all about.

The author went on to describe meeting an 80-year old man as they were both climbing over barbwire fencing...

Jesus, Joseph and Mary! I wish my brain was in clever-mode to better editorialize on this. Quite frankly, I'm uncharacteristically speechless.