galore, adjective, in abundance: there were prizes galore for everything. ORIGIN early 17th cent.: from Irish go leor, literally ‘to sufficiency’.

Yes, well, I've had an abundance. I just caught up with and filled in the blanks on the last three blogs. I know I had something in mind for galore but it escapes me now.

Tomorrow, maybe.

I was going to talk about the plethora of books, but not only books, of things, gifts, stuff available now and the difficulty of making choices and the depression one sinks into if one can't see/do everything and on the other side that one is not the creator of such abundance. I've been reading not only the newest reviews but also the lists of the "best" for 2017 - oy. Impossible.

But G stands for something else and that I can do something about.

G is for generic. Every year I write a generic Christmas letter. Everyone does, that is, those who still write Christmas cards. It's the annual family report, keeping up with the Joneses. Now, more and more for people my age, it's checking in;

I'M STILL HERE

And so,off line at the moment (it's still not written yet), but coming soon to a snail mail box or an e-account near you, is my generic for 2017.

Time flies. T is for time.

I travel alone most of the time, but when I travel with someone, it's with my son, Matt. We fly to Boston twice a year to visit my daughter and her family in Quincy (pron. Kwinzee). He is very nice to travel with, very patient and full of good humour. Well, you know what an obstacle course travel is these days. Getting there is not half the fun, it's no fun at all. So while we are taking off our shoes and emptying our pockets and losing our boarding passes and (me) pulling out my laptop and my iPadMini, one or the other of us will say, "Are we having fun yet?" Nope.

But Matt is fun to be with, and when we are finally settled in our seats, then we start having fun. It's important to know when and to learn the difference between no fun and fun.

Every Christmas I have to learn it again. If I'm sounding a bit premature, it's because 67 years ago this weekend (November 25), Bill Wylie proposed to me. Not like in the movies on bended knee. He said something like, "I give up. We have to get married." Not shotgun have-to, just have to because we thought we couldn't Iive without each other. Later,of course, 23 years later, he put me to the test. I have lived without him.

It's not as much fun.