NOVEMBER 7, 2022: “Type ‘O’, Here We Are Again!” …

That’s right, folks … “O” here we really are again. I’ve fallen UP in the fog once more as the great alchemy of music stepped in with its magic when I least expected it to wrap me in the most beautiful “grey high” blanket of rhapsody I never saw coming.

So, I’ve cancelled all my plans for the day, decided to just schlub in the castle in one of the king’s favorite yummy grey sweaters, and put on a pot of soup so can just bask in the blissful solitude of my “Nothing. Everything. ALL OF IT!” divinely appointed existence.

The songs that my son sends to me to tell me how he’s feeling are the diary of HIS perfection and they’re one of my most precious things in my life.

As I’ve already told my him, I love him more than words can say, and knowing that I’m his “Nettie” is amongst one of my utmost diamond encrusted treasures in this world. Today, as always, I’m thanking GOD for the literal hell that both he and his sister and I have all walked through and SURVIVED together, because without it, I’d have never be able to see the miracle I see through all this fog.

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