Happy Monday (say it like Frosty the Snowman would, that's how it went in my mind)!
I would have a microfiction for everyone, but I suck and still can't link to the offending Grandma's Goulash. Maybe next week.
Instead I offer you two trains of thought (no worries, they are traveling on two completely different tracks, and I could care less what time they left the station or how fast they are traveling. you will not have to compute when they will meet in my mind. quite possibly never...)
First- our CSA rocks. Here is a picture of week pre-1:
Now on to the second topic- old men and little boys.
I need to give a little background before I start this topic. I work for 3 brothers (well, actually, now just two). They have been in business together since the youngest could have a job. Serious business, they owned a company. They have a charitable foundation. The oldest was 99 when he passed away (just a few weeks ago), his brothers are 97 and 90 this year. Until last fall, the older two would eat lunch together at the office every day. The youngest is the one that runs the business now (yes, at 90) so he ate with them when he was in town. It truly amazes me. Not that brothers could be successful together, or that they love each other. It's really more that after 90 something years together, they still wanted to come to the office to eat lunch together. To just hang out. The office was their park bench. Towards the end the conversations weren't much (the 2nd brother's mind is slowly fading away). But there they were, two little old men, just being together. Brothers.
The older the boys get, the more I get to see them act like brothers. Now that little o is starting to talk, LG is treating him like a real person (instead of a baby). They've actually started having conversations. It's not much, little o doesn't have that many words, and LG doesn't have that much patience. But it's starting.
And when they're out and about in their hats and long shorts, they remind me of little old men.