Where are you going my little one, little one?

Where are you going my baby, my own?

Turn around and you’re two.

Turn around and you’re four.

Turn around and you’re a young girl going out of the door.

 

Where are you going my little one, little one?

Where are you going my baby, my own?

Turn around and you’re tiny.

Turn around and you’re grown.

Turn around and you’re a young wife with babes of your own.

 

BUT, I realized …

Your “babes” are no longer babies.

You’re talking about retiring in 7 years

(and, I might add, made me feel even older than I usually do).

 

Then, …

I did the arithmetic, …

… And, I realized that you’re not old.

(I know a few people who wouldn’t mind being only 53.)

Winter or Summer; Night or Day, …

You have a wonderful Family, and …

Good Friends.

Although “you can’t go home again”, …

The old place still looks good, and …

You DO get back to your home town regularly.

You even return to the “Family Saloon” now and then.

(I think that guy with you has had enough.)

 

All things considered, your life is good. May it continue to as good or better throughout the year ahead and, may you have a

 

 

One more thing …
 
On the day this picture was taken, I picked up a dried out stick and, without much thought, bent it until it broke.

To my surprise, I found myself with part of the stick in each hand and a third piece on the ground in front of me. Somehow. it had snapped in two places rather than the one that I expected. This seemed so unusual that I declared the stick to be Magic. Deciding to keep it, I put all three pieces of the stick in my jacket pocket.

I still have that Magic Stick.

 

You guys seem to be doing well; … to the best of my knowledge, Adri and Cliff are OK too … and; to quote your Grandpa Bahn, “I’m pretty good for the shape I’m in”.

It looks like the Magic is working.