It’s that time of year again.
It’s time for us to all wonder, where did August go?
How did Summer go so fast?
Why can’t there be just a little more time?
I’m never ready to say good-bye. Ever. And not just to the Summer; the older I get, the more of a hanger-on-er I am. I want things to stay the same, everyday, without complications or challenges or thickening plots. I want to go back to those happier times before Twitter, e-books, sexting, and Sarah Palin. And as long as I’m at it, I’d like to stay 26 and I want my old cat Winston back.
Sigh. Musn’t grumble (or else I’ll start to sound like an Arizona Republican).
Coming up is the last weekend of my favorite month of the year. Top Cat and I are going to the shore of the Long Island Sound tomorrow with a picnic dinner and a bottle of champagne and we’re going to watch the sun set and toast our good luck that we’ve made it this far, to Old Fartism, where we complain about everything that’s new, “improved”, loud, or anything that the kids like these days.
And that’s how we’ll say good-bye August.
Can’t wait to see you again next year.