THE BIG FAT MATTRESS OF NORMALCY

Well, things have plunged somewhat back toward normalcy now that the grandies have left for their home in the north, it's getting steadily quieter around here I notice, the ambiance is less dynamic following the abrupt decline in spontaneous creativity flying around and bouncing off the walls which is good in some ways, especially for my back, since the girls are bigger each year yet still want to shimmy all the way to the top of the big timbers in the living room with a full body length boost from me and then to be spun around like living tops on the hard oak floor before being dragged around the big room like kidsnakes, then there's always This is the Way the Gentlemen Ride etc., and Ride along to Boston etc., then outside digging potatoes and raking together a big and bigger and biggest pile of leaves there ever was to roast the tubers in while the wild native girls run around the towering flames chanting in some kind of ancient granddaughter ritual as with my rake I try to keep everything from catching fire until we eat, and now it's time to take a nap.