This is it. That time of the year when little girls with their pigtails pat me by on snowy paths. Their cheeks a shade sunnier, their words mellow. The snow still feels good but there are times when the chill gets to my bones. I remember how I used to run after the cat, I still do but lately, the lead she has been amassing seems to have grown greater. The stars seem to suggest that perhaps I am looking in the wrong light, the answer isn’t in forgetting but celebrating the past that once was.
Before the calendar changes (Still holding on to the Mayan prophecy?) and another Christmas bids adieu its ravishing reds, I thought of sharing the Holstee Manifesto with all the dear readers. Sink in; let the words guide you through the year!
And now the girls with pigtails are following the erratic path of a butterfly through the meadow. Some grown ups may say they are wasting time. But if you saw these chirpy girls through this dog’s eyes, you’d know that perhaps it’s the cynics who are letting go of life.
Wait, here I come! *whooshes through the wind*