This is a holiday repost. I post this same story every year because of its significance to me and to my daughter. 
My daughter and I were talking about various things when she asked me at what age I had stopped believing in Santa Claus. My answer was that I still believe in Santa and related the following story to explain why.
As most people know I got rid of my cable a couple of months ago. Since then I have been looking for a place where I could watch the NFL online for free and legally. (There is a Russian site you can go to, but it isn’t legal I am pretty sure. Every once in awhile, one of the channels will be banned with another one then popping up somewhere else). At the Russian site though, you can get the games broadcast in different languages which is kind of cool.
This story may be familiar to some of you–I discovered it earlier this year and it was especially meaningful to me, having experienced an “epiphany” in my faith-walk:
“Leaving the City of Regret”, by Larry Harp, Heartwarmers4u
I had not really planned on taking a trip this time of year, and yet I found myself packing rather hurriedly. This trip was going to be unpleasant and I knew in advance that no real good would come of it. I’m talking about my annual “Guilt Trip.”
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I know, I know—I said I didn’t want any more awards; I did say that. Oh, what’s to become of me? Here I am, clutching the Kreativ Blogger Award, presented to me by Slomoto.me (http://slomoto.me), and I must say a gracious “thank you”! (And, I’m a little bit thrilled, I’ll admit it…)
I have a dear and close (heart and geography) friend who shuns what he refers to as “social conventions”. He doesn’t believe in them, and he suggests I’m not obliged to pay obeisance to them. However, he and I grew up in different worlds together—and in mine, “being polite” was closer to Godliness than cleanliness (though, nine people and one bathtub may have had something to do with that). So—really, truly, madly—it would display unladylike discourtesy, for me not to accept this award.
Late last April, I let my dog out into the backyard to do her “duty”. I saw a feral cat run into my slightly ajar garage door. Of course, my dog, Mollie went running after the cat and I followed. I did not want some male cat “marking his territory” in my garage!!! Together, Mollie and I were going to get rid of that intruder!!!
As I walked into the front of the garage I was met with hisses and screeches!! I had visions of this cat jumping for my throat in my own garage!! At the same time, I noticed that Mollie was honed in on something near the rear of the garage. I edged past the hissing cat to investigate what Mollie was so intrigued by.
Along with all of the other jobs I have had in my life, I once drove a taxi for about a year or so.
Here is a story about a “triple fare” one night. (A triple fare is when you pick up three people at the same place, going to three different places. Kaching!).
I drove a taxi in Visalia, California, a town about thirty miles south of Fresno. Because we were the only taxi company in the county, the area we served was huge.
