#SoCS & #JusJoJan Jot # 5

#Soc Saturday/#Just Jot it January

With youth there is an acceptable level of selfishness allowed. As we walk the path of growth we are expected to clamor for what is ours, to find our place and develop our own persona. If life were a glass of water, a younger me would gulp it down, slam the glass on the counter and demand more. Without regard for whether the person next to me is thirsty.

With age I have learned that the person next to me matters. That they may be dehydrated by life. That the contents of their glass won’t satiate them.

I have thankfully learned to sip from my glass, wait to see if my thirst is quenched, and if possible pass the glass so that they might satisfy theirs.

After all, the great “half-full or half-empty” debate is a misnomer. The glass is refillable.

Alistair and Alexis in “Countdown To Christmas”

If you haven’t met Biff, of the gloriously named Blog Biff, Sock, Pow I strongly recommend that you check him out. I promise in my heart of hearts that you will not be disappointed.

His daily blogs are a delight. He will tell you that he is writing a “Seinfeldian” post about nothing and then regales you with his humorous wordplay and unique take on even the most mundane.

The true Arrow in Biff’s quiver is his delightful “Alistair and Alexis” series. The exchange between this fictional couple is delightful, his characters amusing, his references comically impressive and the wordplay and dialogue paint such a picture.

Why this guy doesn’t have a million followers is beyond me.

Check out this entry in the A & A series. He deserves the read

Biff Sock Pow

vintage-christmas-cards 1

I was not hiding particularly, though I could see how it might appear that way to an untrained observer.

Such an observer, untrained or not, could easily have found me in my den where I was recumbent upon my favorite easy chair.  My feet were up on the coffee table (in direct defiance of house rules).  A fire crackled in the fireplace.  Soft music tinkled on the hi-fi.  A steaming mug of wassail sat beside me on the occasional table.

In short, I was the very picture of serenity and relaxation.  And, by golly, if that looked like hiding to an outside observer, well so be it.  I felt I deserved a little quiet time to be alone with my thoughts and to begin recovering from the lunacy of the past week.  Chaos had finally packed its bags and vacated the premises.  And good riddance, I say!  What has chaos…

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