Seven is a good number, I think.
It’s been a few days since my birthday. I had felt an obligation to post something, anything, substantial or otherwise.
But nah, let’s flush that all down to the toilet.
Let’s just say we’ve all grown a little wiser. The world is a not-so-bad place. But there are many swamps that will eat you alive. A little compassion and a little kindness can actually pull you out of the pile of filth that is happening everywhere.
A few deeds to help others can go a long way. A few words of truth are harsh but necessary.
I managed to pull my one of legs out of the existential crisis and learned to accept it as growth. And things appear to be running smoother.
I got a charming Snoopy and Woodstock music box for my soon-to-be-born daughter. It’s handcrafted, polished, and windable. It plays the good ol’ Peanuts theme. It has Snoopy on top of his dog house, typing away on a typewriter.
I hope my daughter loves it.