This has been an interesting, thought provoking and entertaining exercise. However, not one I'd like to repeat anytime soon. Too much happy messes with my gloom.
So, on this final day...some things I'm happy about are the members of my Flist. Some of you have drifted in and drifted on, some have been around for a long time and some are recent additions. Still, it is encouraging and refreshing to know that somebody actually reads my little bloviations, my attempts at poetry and little memories. Better still, most of you all fall under the category of being a "mess."
And this isn't a bad thing. Far from it. I remember my mother, having grown up in West Virginia, telling me that when somebody around there told you that you were a mess, it wasn't mean spirited. It was a pleasant observation about how we are all a bundle of contradictions, flaws, strong points and admirable traits. In other words, you're a good human being.
I've a good wife, some mighty fine Stoopid Kats who make me laugh because of who they are, a decent job and a bottle of Tropicana Fruit Punch.
I mean, honestly, outside of flaming bagels, what more could you want?

