kvetching up

55 has come and gone. I woke this morning not expecting to be grieving, Four years ago, what did we do for Jenny's birthday? I don't remember. I can't find the feelings or remember anything approaching profundity. Jenny. I miss Jenny, more now than I did when she died, given the bitter taste in my mouth has been washed away (for today) by the tears streaming down my cheeks. I want to let go and celebrate the life we shared together, even if much of it turns out was a lie. I want to honor the good Jenny put in the world.

Three days was the morning My focus three days old My head, it landed To the sounds of cricket bows 3 Days Gone I really couldn't have hoped for a better Christmas holiday, with both girls and I celebrating multiple times. We went to the Central Cinema twice--once for the Muppet Christmas Carol which, bluntly put, is sacrilege to the memory of all I hold holy around the bourgeois Dickens story. I own the Reginald Owen, Alistar Sims, George C. Scott, a couple of cartoon versions, but not the Mr. Magoo version (it must exist, right?). All have one Marley. None have Rizzo the Rat accompanying a Gonzo as Dickens to provide exposition. Call me a purist. I own a very old copy of the story itself--not quite a novel in length-that I bought when my mother was dying in hospital back in 2008. I have never gotten through the first stave, praise the lord of ADHD.  Anyhow, Christmas has been an utter delight. We dutifully watched Charlie Brown's Christmas, played board games together--a firs...