I read that some people think they are smarter in the morning; judging from my whimsical post title up there, I would tend to believe I am not one of them.

So, moving on . . .

I just realized this is an upsetting situation: It is September 11th and I am in a frivolous mood. I just woke up that way; it’s kind of like having hiccups at a recital.

i feel very personal today and so when I remembered the date, I immediately thought how things have changed for me since then. In 2001, the grandkids were little, my mother was going strong, Little Ann and Sydney were are dogs and when Der Bingle called to tell me a plane had flown into the World Trade Center, I assumed it was a little plane and an accident.

Well, writing that paragraph has sobered me up and widened my view; I remember sitting in the chair in the sitting room watching the continuous news coverage and watching in real time as the building collapsed. It took awhile to accept that this was no movie scene.

Perhaps I am experiencing something such as the scene between Katherine Hepburn and John Wayne in the movie Rooster Cogburn where she comes upon Wayne and the Indian Boy throwing corn muffins into the air and then shooting them, as in primitive skeet shooting. She was angry and asked why they were shooting corn muffins in a meadow and her father lay newly dead and the killer at large. Wayne replied they were celebrating and when she asked what they were celebrating, he answered, “Being alive, Sister, being alive.