Dear Mom I had a great weekend

Dear Mom I had a great weekend

It was one of those weekends you hope will happen but you can not really plan for. I still remember the first time you came up with the idea of Hermann Missouri for a weekend. You were all excited about the romantic notion of spending the day sitting around in a vineyard drinking wine. Soaking in the last of the Autumn warmth, watching the leaves change, listening to according music and sharing some wonderful moments with friends. You hope every year will be better than the last but you can never count on it.

I owe it to you that I never meet a stranger. There are some circumstances that make the notion easier than others but Octoberfest is a prime example of how easy it is to make friends. Sipping on wine can lead to a nice level of comfort and happiness that is very conducive to meeting new people.

Accompanied with spending time with old friends the time you spend with the new ones is that much more special. You talk about things you have in common and things you don’t. You share stories about your kids and reflect on how times have changed.

The slight breeze and smell of Autumn sets a stage that few things can match. The leaves softly falling off the trees send glints of sunlight that twinkle in the afternoon as you drain yet another bottle of wine. By the time the afternoon has passed and you can see the hints of evening falling in long shadows around you, you shake your head disappointingly at the setting sun and say goodbye.

Maybe you will see them next year. Maybe they will actually send an email much as you have heard in years before. Either way you have one more reason to never miss that first weekend in October.

Sudden Light

I have been here before,
But when or how I cannot telll.
I know the grass beyond the door,
The sweet keen smell,
the sighing sound, the lights around the shore.

You have been mine before
How long ago I may not know;
But just when at the swallow's soar
Your neck turned so,
Some veil did fall I knew it all of yore

has this been thus before?
and shall not thus time's edying flight
Still with our lives our love restore
In death's despite,
And day and night yield one delight once more?

Dante Gabriel Rossetti


Love Mike