A picture is worth a thousand words! Can anyone argue the validity of that statement? No. That is why it has been used over and over and over to such an extent that it now falls into the realm of being a cliché. You know, those old worn out used phrases that are a dime a dozen.
Yes, clichés can be wonderful. Just like pictures they speak volumes. No explanations are necessary as everybody knows that they mean. They are easy and comfortable and oh, so familiar. For that reason, writers will tend to avoid them like the plaque. To make a long story short, they want their writing to be unique and stand out from the crowd. They fear their words will simply go in one ear and out the other leaving their readers few and far between. Get my point?
It seems that most people have a favorite month or two. Usually their choice is dependent upon birthdays, anniversaries or some other special event. And I suppose February is no exception; especially with Valentine's Day dab smack in the middle of it.
For me, there really is no other month which I await with such anticipation. Yes, I must say there are some things I really like about February. Anyone who knows me knows that a lot of that liking is tied up with Groundhog Day. Not that I am a huge fan of that furry little critter, but I am a huge fan of seeing winter on its way out.
Do you ever wonder how weather got to be the forerunner of small talk?
You know what I mean. It tends to be the first efforts we make at conversing with our fellow man...or woman.
However, it does seem to be the one topic that we can all agree is safe. No matter who you are, what position in society you hold or your age, you can always offer up a weather related comment. "Nice day, isn't it?" "Oh, it's a cold one out there!" "Great to see the sun out at last."
Any of these comments are sure to elicit a rather agreeable comment in return. Like I said, weather is safe. No chance of someone being nasty or returning a snarling retort. Ever receive a "No. It's not a nice day"? Didn't think so.
Have you, like me, stashed something away in a safe place only to find that you can't remember where that is? Great! I don't mean great that you've lost something but great that it isn't just me who has that happen.
Not remembering has nothing to do with getting older as I have been doing this most of my adult life. Often, I kept something because it has some sentimental value or I just knew I'd need it at some future time. Where to put it was always answered in a logical fashion. Or so I thought. Then when it came time to relocate that something, my mind was totally blank. The logic would escape me just I needed it most.
There are many differences between cats and dogs. Anyone who has had both knows what I mean. Although they both fall under the term pets, that's where the similarities end.
It has been said that while dogs have owners, cats have slaves. That sure seems to be the case at my house. Now that spring has arrived, our cat, Ginger, believes that my sole purpose in life is to not only care for her daily requirements but also to be a constant door opener. And I am.
Not remembering has nothing to do with getting older as I have been doing this most of my adult life. Often, I kept something because it had some sentimental value or I just knew I'd need it at some future time. Where to put it was always answered in a logical fashion. Or so I thought. Then when it came time to relocate that something, my mind was totally blank. The logic would escape me just when I needed it most.
The questions seemed harmless enough when asked. Do I bowl? And would I be willing to fill in for someone who couldn't make the team when they did the charity bowl? I said sure to both.
It seemed harmless enough. I did bowl; many years ago when I was much younger. How much could have changed? Wasn't it just like riding a bike? That's what I thought and in theory I was absolutely correct.
But the difficulty came in the execution. Yes, I had the concepts down pat. I even remembered where to stand on the lane, how to do the three step approach, and the mechanics of holding the ball in preparation for delivery. After that, it all broke down.