We’re having a little pre- Super Bowl tailgate here in a few minutes, largely filled with things I can’t eat–hot dogs, chips, and the like, but I will be fine.  As far as the Super Bowl goes, I suppose my least favorite player next to Colin Kaepernick, Tom Brady, is playing, but I was almost predisposed to root for him when I learned he is facing backlash because he won’t renounce his friendship with President Trump.

However, having said that, I am rooting for the Atlanta Dirty Birds, the Falcons.  I don’t have a definite feeling who will win, but I did see the falcon logo in my mind ripping it to the Pats.  We’ll see.

No choir tomorrow, we’re off this weekend.

Forgot to get ready in time for Mass to get my throat blessed since it is the Feast of St. Blaise.  How Mom always made sure we were there when kids, especially me since I was respiratory distress personified.  On the subject of Mom…

Last evening, I got home a little late because I stopped at Joe W’s to get the fixings to make Cole Slaw for the party, and it was getting dark, although really sunset.  I was tired.  I saw that the living room needs dusting, the kitchen is getting to be a mess again, and I was flooded by the days when Mom was alive and I’d come come exhausted to a wonderful meal, a sparkling house, and lively conversation.  So, yesterday I said to Teddy, reclining in the rocking chair, “Boy, Teddy, your grandmother was so good to me!”  A split second later, one of the living room lamps that was not lit, flashed on and off.  Then, last night, I was watching television in the dark because I like to open the blinds and enjoy my porch lights and the night sky, I thought of Mom and Earl in the same moment and the same lamp flickered on and off twice.  That hasn’t happened before, and the bulb was not loose because I checked.

I read your cards this morning, and Meggie was spot on right.  But there are brighter days ahead, far brighter.