It’s official. Mom is flying home today, and Sam is driving her to the airport as I write this post. The autumn weather — 70° with sunshine — is perfect, there’s zero traffic and her flight is on time. The only thing that could be better is if mom decided to stay another week because she’s adorable … picture a miniature Sam with lipstick.
I haven’t commented on the World Series for the last couple of days because I’m still recovering from the frustration of it all. I’ve lived in several major cities in my lifetime and not one has ever produced a championship team. I refer mostly to the Chicago Cubs, the saddest story in baseball history. Their last World Series win was in 1908 … the same year that Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid were killed in Bolivia, Henry Ford manufactured the first Model T and Henri Matisse opened his own art school in France.
And now I’m stuck with the Texas Rangers — our very own Chicago Cubs wannabes — who go down in flames after two consecutive American League pennants. I’m still slightly nauseated by the whole experience but not enough to actually skip lunch, which is at the top of my agenda as soon as I finish typing. I’ve got good leftovers today.
I guess that’s about it for now. I’m glad you stopped by. Next time bring chips.
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