My very favorite preschool quote is this:
Miss Laura, my grandpa is 56 years old and he's not even dead yet.
This does, of course, fill me with hope that I just may have more than six years left on the clock. To be 56 and not even dead yet - that's heady stuff.
But, just in case my time is limited, I'd best start working on my bucket list. To date, it contains:
Have grandchildren. Of course, this is highly dependent upon my offspring, and their life choices. So, at this point, it's just a pipe dream. My kids need to learn to feed themselves before they take responsibility for another life. But really? I can't wait to have little ones around the house again. Besides, they make such cool baby accessories these days.
Fly on a big airplane over the ocean. Most people who know me are aware of my terror of flying. I'm talking full-fledged panic attacks. Just ask anyone who has flown with me and you'll hear the sordid tales of my fingernails dug into my traveling companion's forearm. However, knowing I may only have six years left has increased my longing for Italy, for Paris, for Scotland, for Hawaii. These, as I am often reminded, are destinations to which it is impossible to drive the Honda mini-van. Damn.
Finish my novel. I got about 11,000 words written in November for NaNoWriMo. Some of them are not too bad. Some of them I would just rather not acknowledge. Still, the process was joyful and I am not happy that I allowed myself to get side-tracked.
Clean out the basement store room. OK, not such a life goal, but I did tell Steve that I was going to do it last weekend.
No comments:
Post a Comment