Deep Breath

This may turn out just to be a place-holder post. I'm about to go to Gibson's jazz band concert in just a few minutes. 
Now because I am becoming worse and worse and worse about doing things that are not a part of my routine, this is causing me some anxiety. Okay. A lot of anxiety. My evening routines are far more set in stone than my daytime routines. And driving at night is something I do not do. I have severe night blindness. So hopefully, the concert will be rather short and the sun will not set before I get back on the road. And honestly, his school, where the concert will be held, is not even all the way to town for me. 
It is NOT a big deal. 
Except of course it is. 

Mr. Moon took off in the deep early hours and the last I heard from him he was in Minnesota, about to board the plane for Canada. He told me that on his flight from Atlanta to Minnesota the man who sat next to him talked without ceasing for the entire flight. He said the guy had done a lot of things and been a lot of places and it was all pretty interesting until his ears began to bleed. 

I guess I better go change into concert clothes. 
I can do this, right? 

Sure. And I will. 

Love...Ms. Moon