On the Other Hand….(new title!)

Around 6:00 am on Christmas morning in my backyard      I have a love-hate relationship with the early morning hours of the day. When I was a lazy, self-indulgent teenager, I  loved sleeping in till like, noon . I shudder at the thought now. I remember warm summer mornings where I was unpleasantly awoken by those *&^%$green parrots that escaped from the pet store fire like 30 years ago. They have managed to successfully reproduce and love chomping bites out of my persimmons. They find me wherever I go! Of course, all of you in the Los Angeles area know about these obnoxiously LOUD parrots. You've heard them, too, huh?      Then there were the years when Tim and I were married without children yet. We'd groggily open one eye on a late Saturday morning and say to one another, "Enjoy these weekends of sleeping in, smoochkins (yes, that was the corny name we had for one another back then). After the kiddos come we'll be up early enough." ...

     Late last week my neighbor appeared at my door with two wooden, red-handled children's brooms. This neighbor, I'll call him "Cookie Cal" (to protect the innocent), is in his late 60's and is an upstanding member of our community. He was Citizen of the Year back in the 90's,  is our neighborhood block captain, and has recently retired from a very successful business. His first two wives have passed away, and his third wife is a lovely, svelte, jewel of a woman who, in addition to her front yard gardening projects, really enjoys the new Mercedes he bought her for her birthday awhile back. "You know, I'm a millionaire ..."  he has told me on several occasions. Okey-dokey.       He's also a leftover hippie from the 60's, with a long, sometimes braided white beard and a propensity for "amusing" off-color jokes and expletives thrown into the conversation every so often. He had knee replacement surgery awhile back and so I hadn...