About this time every year I start getting nostalgic.
Usually, it’s just a reaction to exhaustion after trying to get all the holiday things done around the house.
It’s tough getting ready for company, while keeping my lovely bride from throwing things in my direction when I’m late doing my share of the housecleaning.
Sometimes it’s just a nod to my own mortality, the specter of which raises its head more frequently the older I get.
Often, being the morbid sentimentalist I am, my nostalgia se...
Published on December 23, 2014 12:22