The observations of a 50 something with lots of experience in politics, government, life and learning.

Monday, September 26, 2005


or pretty close to it and I remember where I was.

In the Bahamas. I remember this for two reasons:

a. We went on the vacation because we had NOT found a house we wanted to buy. I whined to my husband and he (uncharacteristically) caved in. We bought our present house in 1986, so this was the year before.

b. It was mid-September because I am sorry to say that it was the classic time for mental health issues, and while I was on vacation, a young man that I knew took his own life.

So we went to a Club Med in the Bahamas and a hurricane approached as we were there. My husband's parents were taking care of our kids, and the priest from our church, Sinc Hart, very kindly called my in-laws and asked if they were OK as the hurricane approached the Berkshires and were they worried about us.

The hurricane was named Gloria. I remember THIS clearly because as it approached, we danced at Club Med until the wee hours to the song "GLORIA -- G-L-O-R-I-A -- GLORIA" which was an oldie but goodie.

Notice that it was mid-September and we were on the letter G.

It's now mid to late September and we're on the letter R. Do you get my drift?

And a month ago we were on the letter K. So not only had we gotten pretty far by the end of August, but between end of August and mid-end September, we had gone through seven more letters.

I rest my case.

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