Young at heart the key in ’15

It never crossed my mind how much I would treasure peace and quiet until I looked across the room just now and realized the kitten was fast asleep.
Asleep instead of tearing around the house strafing curtains and racing up the back of my reading chair only to launch itself into the bookcase.
Of late around here, it’s been a crazy cross between the inside of a pinball machine, with the steel ball ricocheting from one corner to the another, and energy bursts that rival the speed of particles inside the Large Hadron Collider near Geneva, Switzerland.
And, oh yes, “Lucy” is now “Louie” after it was discovered the kitten I thought was a female was, indeed, born with the family jewels.
I also think Louie was reincarnated from an ace hockey player—given the precise aim on that leftie kitten paw that can shoot a stuffed mouse through the middle of a cardboard ribbon holder and into a bag of gift bows that was on the floor as I wrapped Christmas gifts this past week.
The kitten then “cat”-apulted into the bag after its toy—exploding all manner of red and green bows everywhere.
I admit a small twinge of payback pleasure when I saw the bug-eyed look of panic in the kitten’s eyes on Christmas Day, when the kitchen door opened and all six of my grandchildren burst into the room like the break after the eight-ball.
Jolted from its cat nap with a look of shock, Louie’s escape route was all but thwarted by very excited little people who scurried after a furry tail that raced to disappear in the bedroom and under the bed.
It wasn’t long before one of the children returned with the kitten, holding it like a squeeze toy. I promptly stepped in to dispel the over-loving with a reminder of presents under the Christmas tree, liberating “Louie” from the clutches of a child.
The kitten leapt into my arms with gusto—meowing a promise of good behaviour for having saved its life.
For the rest of the day, everyone observed how docile and well-behaved the kitten was as it lay prone just out of reach of small eager hands. His mask came off five minutes after the children left the house for home on Christmas evening.
Youth—all manner of it—is so very refreshing. And that is my goal for the coming year—to remain youthful in my attitude towards life.
2015 sounds like a youthful, healthy number—one full of fun and adventure and opportunity and endless possibilities. I’m all for that.
Go forward. Stay wide open to change. Upset convention. Expect joy.
Happy New Year to you!

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