Why Looking Backward at 2019 is Worse than a Bad Valentine

My dad and I are briefly avoiding Maple Lawn Cemetery, here in the physical world, until the subsequent week or so, as we’ve had a lovely Christmas rest and soon an extraordinary New Year’s.  While normally a pleasant upkeep experience, this month our brushfire spread to one of our trees, regrettably, a fire which we had to extinguish.

    My mother turned seventy years old this week, and it is tremendous for me.  She has been enormous for me, obviously, beyond what I can succinctly talk.

    I remember when Mom was asking me a few weeks back what kind of Christmas TV programming I might get to see, this go, and she reminded me that a lot of the network TV shows are having their mid-season hiatus.  It’s sort of in their absence, especially, that the network shows feel relevant and add heaps of joy to the calendar year.

   I don’t have the foggiest idea whether you have a sentiment for January, or if nothing else be alongside associates with who you can explore the winter month of January.  I know from the weight of popular interest in romance, and relationships, that there is something intrinsically human and good about the romance of winter.

Seeing the tree that had been alight

    We have New Year’s Eve very soon now.  While I’m a Canadian, I live in the southern ranges, where lake impact temperatures are generally sensible, while keeping you inside a greater amount of the time than you may somehow prefer to spend. Some people have that flair to form a unit that stops a problem, and sometimes, even if it is as routine as waiting for the cast of, for example, The Bachelor, to reconvene.

    I risk appearing to be dismal if I reflect what getting in some Bachelor may accomplish for me.  Be that as it may, on the off chance that you can’t beat them, join them.  Watching The Bachelor would be better than a lot of other choices.

    It could prove, by the fact that I help at a cemetery, that being morose lives for me in a heart of darkness, but tempering that with an appetite for uplifting and curious experiences, you have in me, not a pack animal nor a reptile, but, I feel, an effusive human being, making a sound perceptible in its absence.

No Perceptible Difference By Its Presence or Absence – Aristotle   

You don’t have a clue what you have until it’s gone, maybe, but I don’t know. I am not out to make a buck, but you’re welcome to “like” this, to follow, and/or to comment.  Happy New Year in 2020 and all the best!