Barbara Peterson writes…”I miss Freddy.”
Hello Barbara,
I’m touched you noticed my absence, and happy to report the rumors of my abdication have been greatly exaggerated. However, I’d be lying if I told you the future of Fridays With Freddy will be an event by which you can set your watch.
As I approach my second birthday, I find myself torn in a number of directions, and quite frankly, overwhelmed by a whole new set of unanticipated obligations. Last Friday for instance, I intended to share a humorous anecdote concerning a recent encounter with a family of raccoons, when I became hopelessly distracted with an overwhelming need to remove The Biped’s socks.
I don’t know why, but there’s something inexplicably offensive about socks without shoes. Bare feet are fine, and shoes are of course, are perfectly acceptable. But there’s just something about a sock without a shoe that requires action. And so I took it. And the next thing I knew, it was Saturday.
Point is, I’ve tried from the outset to check in every Friday, and I’ll continue to do so in spite of my encroaching dotage. But increasingly, I’m finding myself less reliable, more easily distracted, and increasingly gobsmacked by the alarming regularity with which Fridays appear. Thanks for understanding. I’d love to say more, but there’s a moth bouncing off the window pane that demands my immediate attention. (Seriously – what the hell is a moth doing out in the daytime?)
Freddy