I dreamed about babies last night.
That doesn't mean there are going to BE any babies arriving around here.
I am going to be fourty-five next week. Which is, I was reminded by a lovely, young, teenage girl at church this Sunday past, halfway to 90! Yes, she stood there straight and tall, youth flying and flinging from every pore in her body, so pleased and surprised by her own insight.
I was surprised, too.
Women who are halfway to ninety should not be dreaming of snuggly, cooing babies.
But sometimes they just do.
(My Oldest on his first day. We were amazed!)