You KNOW I am going to have to change this blog's template again before long. Even I can't figure out what's where, half the time.
We went to our niece's Ukrainian dance festival yesterday afternoon. Two hours of brightly coloured costumes on the move, and lots of sprightly accordion music. Some of the toe and leg work reminded me of wee Grandma doing her Highland Fling all over the Margo countryside.
It's coming up to two years since she's been gone, and I miss her. She was one of a kind, and very occasionally she got on my last nerve and I told her so. But I'd put up with any of her cranky Bartleyness (all you Bartleys may kick my ass at the next family reunion) to have her back.
At the festival yesterday I talked with a friend about signs that our loved ones are still around us. She has had some convincing experiences. I've had one or two, myself. When they happen, you know absolutely who or what it was. It's afterward that you begin convincing yourself it was coincidence and wishful thinking. That there was a strange power surge that made your sound system start up loud in the middle of the day, by itself. That that warm, affectionate hand on the back of your neck was just your imagination.
Oops -- gotta bolt -- going to relocate a barn cat to the other farm.