On Championship Sunday

While TBG was comfortably ensconced in front of America's blood sport, I took advantage of the warming temperatures to work on the overflowing disaster area formerly known as my side of the garage, and then moved inside to work on the library closet and the desk drawers.

I didn't pay much attention to the game or the digital world in general.  I was a woman on a mission.  Focused. Medicated so that my hip-and-its-surrounding-tissues wouldn't interfere with the tasks at hand. 

It was late afternoon before I took a seat on the couch and opened my email.

Two friends from long ago were checking in to say hello.  In the combined 70 some years of friendship we have shared, I can't recall two emails from either of them.  Ever.  Yet, there they were, FAMBB and One Of The Nancy's, saying Hi!

They don't know one another.  The have absolutely nothing in common.  Really, the more I think about that the more true it seems.  Yet, there they were, in my inbox, reaching out to me from Massachusetts.

Of course.  

New England, where the weather outside is frightful and Tom Brady and Bill Belichick are starring in the second to last game of the football season, where it's too cold to do anything but snuggle up on the couch and write to an old friend.  

Two very different women having exactly the same afternoon.  I'm flattered to be on the receiving end.