If you have visited my home over the last month, you are probably aware of the sheep. Because at
some point, I usually direct my guests to the platter. No doubt there are a few (discreetly) raised eyebrows when I start talking about The Conversation. And maybe some sideways glances. But okay, okay, we all know what I do for a living.
Right?
My sheep have been around the barn a time or two or three. Paper mâché, felted, S&P shakers, porcelain, crowned, ceramic, woolen. It's all about diversity. And there is always an impostor—a wannabe sheep—a poser. Did you find him? He's cute.
Anyhoo, the conversation continues for however long it takes to sort through the year. Sometimes, it's a long-winded convo. Lots to discuss. I suspect this year it will be especially winded, contemplative, pensive.
So, how'd we do, sheep? With our 365? Were our days kind enough, sterling enough, thoughtful enough? Did we offer our best, our brightest light? Did we rise to the (humane) occasion?
Sheep, did we solve anything?
It's quiet.
So. That's the thing with the sheep on the silver platter . . . and The Conversation.
Happy New Year, my friends.
