Making a list, checking it twice...

Two of my readers complained that this blog had changed from its beginnings.  They wanted to read more of my philosophical ramblings, or so they said, and they wanted to pin me down for a sure-fire direction that the blog should take, I think it's called a niche.  So I respond two ways: numero uno is, if I feel trapped, I'm going to run, and two, although I like the sound of the word niche, the definition is rather constraining and claustrophobic and makes me feel a bit helpless, such as an animal which has fallen into a pit, that is, when I really think about it.

Ah...now that's settled I can get on with the business of life and writing blogs.  This week my son dressed up as Santa Claus for St Nicholas Day and went to a friend's house to really play Santa and bring that family some presents.  It was completely his idea which involved me sewing a red coat with this awful fake fur that made such a mess when I cut it up I felt that my room had turned into a construction site.  I would put a picture up but I think he might kill me if he caught wind of it, so you're just going to have to imagine the cutest and skinniest Santa in the world with a burlap bag over his shoulder, walking off down the street, making every single person he crosses, smile a really big, broad smile.  He even rehearsed his Santa voice in the kitchen before he left, but I should mention, he refused to let me and his sister stuff a pillow in his pants.

There is just something about this time of year and lists that go together.  Maybe it's because everyone is so stressed, they have no time to write longer utterances so they have to reduce their writings to New Year's Resolutions and wish lists, but here is a another idea from my very dear friend of koo-ki fame.  She said she was writing a list of what makes her feel good.  It sounds incredibly simple and you know what?  It's really nice, one of the things was eating cookies and drinking milk.  So I ate cookies, drank milk and felt good.  Where is this going?  Well, I'm pretending to do some philosophical rambling as my readers wanted, but really, I'm encouraging you to rather than writing a list to Santa, be Santa yourself, since even a 9 year old will tell you, playing Santa is really fun and makes you feel good.
Yours, still thinking about the pillow
Mrs Crocodile

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