As you can plainly see, I have fallen under the spell of a witch. She is Donna, the Good Witch of East Gadsden Street, Pensacola, Florida. I met Donna a couple of months after Nancy and I decided to go our separate ways. That breakup was much like the previous Kate breakup. It was a rational decision reached by two mature adults. Amicable, I'm happy to say.
Like my two previous Florida relationships, this new, exciting match was made online. I met the lovely Donna on EHarmony's less expensive subsidiary, EDiscord.com. Their motto is: "This may or may not work out; hey, what do we know?"
Well, this relationship has worked out very well, thank you. Donna is a lovely, bright, witty, generous, and talented native North Carolinian who moved to Pensacola not too long ago. She purchased a 100-year-old Craftsman Bungalow in a nice part of town and has dedicated herself to remodeling it with modern appliances, design touches, etc. Donna's skills in this arena are impressive. The girl can hammer, people. I have offered my limited expertise in these areas, but Donna is nothing if not sensible and has thus far demurred.
Donna has experienced much more of the world than I have, with the notable exception of Boston. I am looking forward to showing off my beautiful Boston later next summer. I know Donna will be eager to show me some of her special places and, of course, there will be many locales that we will experience together for the first time.
I really admire Donna's intelligence, her kindness, and her sophistication. She likes some of my ties. I think we have a match here, people. The distance between us is about 60 miles. That allows each of us to continue with our "own lives" during the week and enjoy life together over the weekends. Donna has a significant "own life" which involves serious charity work and a nice group of friends. I like my personal space as well. My life here in Santa Rosa involves golf, napping, and ribs.
Do you baby boomers out there remember the plate spinner on Ed Sullivan? He would frantically run back and forth, trying to get a bunch of plates or bowls spinning smoothly on long spindles while the orchestra frenetically played the annoying Sabre Dance Song. Inevitably one of the plates would start to wobble precariously and, amazingly, just before it fell and smashed to the floor, the guy would notice it and get it spinning again. Then he would add another, and yet another plate and you'd be wondering how can he possibly keep them all going. In the end he'd have all the plates whizzing perfectly on those spindles while the audience cheered wildly. The only one who suffered from this well-worn act was the vibraphone player who had to keep playing that stupid song prestissimo until the end.
Well, friends, right now, on November 13, 2014, this lame blogger is thrilled to report that all of his plates are spinning like little freakin' gyroscopes. I've had the good fortune to meet a lovely, interesting companion. All of my children are healthy, happy, and, rather remarkably, beginning new, promising jobs and careers. My grandchildren are healthy, happy, and one of them is apparently in love. (A little plate wobble there, but whadda ya gonna do?) I feel great; I shot a 76 the other day, and, even better, I wake up each morning feeling that this new day has promise. Donna has had a lot to do with that.
Four years ago my most precious plate fell off its spindle and crashed to the ground. It was very tempting at that time to just give up and let all the other plates fall.
I'm so grateful to all of you for helping me keep my eye on the rest of those plates these past four years.
I just wish I could get The Sabre Dance to stop playing in my head.
Ain't life grand?
