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OH, DEAR READER, it amazes me how time has such powerful wings!  How it flies! It swoops and soars and speeds along (so to speak, when one cares to speak that way).  Over the past weekend, I got my chauffeur to escort me to a gathering of former classmates of mine. It would have been nice to fly, but the distance did not warrant it, so instead we had that long car trip to southern Virginia on Friday evening.  We got to our hotel late at night, and the hotel clerk informed us that there were sports teams on every floor.  "Why are you telling us this?" I asked.  "Do you expect a lot of noise?"
He shrugged.  "There's no telling," he replied, a bit ominously.
"Well," I said to my yard man, when we'd walked through the quiet halls to our room and imagined  the carousing that would likely ensue in the wee hours, "We'll just hope for the best."

Two whole nights without a sign of these big rowdy players, and then Sunday morning they appeared in force in the breakfast room.  "For heaven's sake," I said to the yard man,  "they're just growing boys! Why didn't the guy tell us they would have a bedtime?!
The moral of the story, Reader Dear:  Don't lose any sleep over possibilities of losing sleep!
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Meanwhile, on Saturday we went to the "little school" reunion, and I got to see a scattering of senior citizens who once sat at small desks in a classroom with me at this small parochial school where we are gathering.  It was somewhat surreal, you know, because of that strange thing that time does when it flies.   But how wonderful to eat hush puppies, and reminisce, and sing songs we used to sing!

Alas, Dear Viewer, I lost the video of us singing
"Santa Lucia". It was always one of my favorites!  (Most of the songs we sang at this little school were already old when we sang them.  I do not wish for you to suppose, Reader Dear, that I carried my books to this school and played on this playground and sang "Santa Lucia" when it was a hit tune!)

 "Hark how the sailor's cry, joyously echoes nigh, Santa Lucia! Santa Lucia!"


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