Just two more days until Halloween. I can hardly believe it. As usual, I have been mostly oblivious to it’s approach. Luckily the kids haven’t and have their costumes all planned out. I don’t know how Trick or Treating will go on a Sunday night though. With Jay having mass to sing… looks like I am on my own.
Oh, and just so you know, we DO celebrate Halloween, in case you hadn’t figured that one out yet. Our family is not celebrating anything evil, even if other people are. We are just dressing up and getting WAY too much candy. I figure the “Holiday” means whatever meaning you give it. Yes, we will go to mass and celebrate All Saints Day. But first we will get all jacked up on sugar the night before. There, that is my final statement on Halloween. I refuse to debate it.
Anyway, this was supposed to be about TIME, not Halloween. This month I had a birthday, Ok, why bother to try to keep it a secret, I am 33 this year. Does that still count as “Early Thirties” or does that put me in the “mid-thirties” range? Doesn’t matter anyway. I feel like an old goat waddling around with this enormous belly. (Blessing though it is!) I have been noticing my hands lately. They have changed so much over the years. No ammount of moisturizer will ever bring them back to what they were, nor should it, I suppose. The skin looks so much thinner, my knuckles are getting wrinkly, and the veins pop out. I can remember as a child sitting in church next to my mom and tracing her veins on her hand. Now my own hands look like hers. I have mom hands. That is certainly not a bad thing. I have several little people around who love to hold my hands and rub them or just fall asleep with them placed on their backs. So as elderly as they may look, they still suit me just fine.