A New Year in The Middle Ages


I resolve, within the hours remaining before the big hand and the little hand are both on the twelve, to (1) be soberly considering a theme for the New Year (2) be engrossed in some sort of activity that appears to be of the utmost importance, and (3) be aware of the copious amount of soup that I consumed earlier in the evening when planning the rest of the Pre-New Year’s hours and the immediately following Post New year’s Eve hours.

after all, I  am now a serious adult, in that beyond-normal-adulthood, when everything must be as serious as an attack of dyspepsia…or some other ancient sounding malady.

….such is life in “The Middle Ages,” that time of life when all the sharp ideas we had when we were 12 seem to be lost in a fog of forgetfulness, and we have to fight back against nursing passing fancies  of  what could have- should have- would have- been if we had had a moment of destiny with so-and-so, who went off to the Big City, married another man, and twenty years later got lost in the middle of Times Square on New Year’s Eve and was never heard from again…

….but may someday be found wandering around in a small New England-like town where Christmas, sleigh bells, and amnesia are common…and can be solved with a chance magical encounter with a QC magazine cut-out man (who also happens to be signed to a dubious acting contract). I, personally, have never met a woman with amnesia wandering around one of my favorite small towns, but I suppose one must find that particular place in order to escape “The Middle Ages” and find said Princess Charming, who obviously would melt in my arms like the finest butter in the whole wide world…

or not…………………………………………………………………………

suffice to say I will celebrate the New Year like a Castaway on an island using seashells as currency, rather than in a crowd of the most interesting people in the world (according to their blogs). if you do happen to see an amnesiac, an amnesia-ite, an amnesiatic …please send her my way. she may in fact be a long lost crush from when I was 12, and when she still had a perfect …sense of humor…at the time.

until then, I hope you enjoy these last fleeting minutes before it is time to get used to 2017, and all she brings.

Ah go on…have a Happy New year!

 

 

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About thelostkerryman

Thelostkerryman is an author, and entrepreneur- this side of Tir Na N'Og- living in the forests of a consistently confused country. Here in this hill country, hurling doesn't usually involve a hurley, store-made soda bread resembles an inedible Irish megalith, and Kerrygold is only found hidden like a luck penny in the belly of Kroger. His blogs are an account of his adventures, thoughts, eclectic -and eccentric- ramblings, random or insightful poetry, humor and non-humor, pictures (photos), video, essays, fiction, poetic fiction, nonfiction, drama, and writing he has not classified in the description above. All of his posts from thelostkerryman.wordpress.com, talesinastrangerstrangerland@wordpress.com, everydayasadisciple@wordpress.com, and mrandmrsboring.wordpress.com are copywrited according to international copywrite law.
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6 Responses to A New Year in The Middle Ages

  1. kerbey says:

    We’ve spent several nights a week since Halloween, watching movies on The Hallmark Channel, and several of them have that story line. Just last week, we watched a woman hit a snow bank with her car and hit her head. She had amnesia and a handsome man in a truck found her on the highway and took care of her, and she fell in love w/ him and his sweet daughter, and everything was hunky dory. Even when she discovered she was actually a famous TV chef, she decided to stay w/ the small town man. But that’s only in the movies. 🙂

  2. Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
    WE’LL TAKE HER (2017)!!!!

  3. inesephoto says:

    Hope your 2017 has a good start!

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