You know that saying, “it may be the martini talking?” This phrase is usually uttered after someone has shared something of import and weight or pure sentimentality to someone who most likely was not receptive to hearing such profundities. Or maybe the recipient felt burdened by the secret suddenly thrust upon them. Or maybe the conferee had heard these particular “special thoughts” multiple times before, always shared after several rounds of libations, and felt used up.

Well this morning I am returning to a recurring theme. Recurring, at least of late. It may be tried and true and getting a bit boring to some around the edges. However, I offer up no soft murmurings of apology nor do I throw on a cloak of guilt for my repetitious meanderings.

For you see, these moments of grace ~ these times of internal peace ~ these days filled with multiple prayers of gratitude sent up to the heavenly universe, by me ~ these seconds of joy-full aliveness ~ all of this comes around not regularly enough these past couple of years.

So when I have a 4-day weekend like the one I am currently enjoying and the stars and the moons and the suns and my spirit all align just perfectly so, I must ~ I just must, write about my grate-full heart that I am the beneficiary of such riches.

It may be my age talking.
Maybe so.
For the saying about the little things in life making life worth living rings truer than true at this juncture in my adulthood.

It just may be my age talking.
And I say to myself ~
Talk away ~ hold court ~ sing and dance ~
and revel in life’s abundance.
Carry on as you are.