Thank you, Garrison!

Tonight, Saturday night, I'm listening to Garrison Keillor's last show.  For something like twenty years (okay, maybe twenty four years), I've listened to this show on Saturday nights, paying my bills and mending clothes while I listened.  When I married my husband -- twenty-ish years ago, so after I started my Prairie Home Habit -- he started taking my kids to the mall on Saturday night, so I could listen in peace.  (Isn't that funny -- that my habit would lead to someone else's regular trips to the mall?)

In fact, when we adopted N-son, we gave him Garrison as a middle name.  He's "N-son Garrison Miserchild", because of my Saturday night ritual.

Even though I've known this night has been inevitable, I am so very sad about the end of that it's hard to put it into words.  I'm trying to console myself by doing my annual charity giving, laying out the envelopes in alphabetical order (the right-hand-column are duplicates), and then writing what feels like a gazillion checks.

Thank you, Garrison, for helping my pay my bills and fix my clothes.  Thank you for the stories, for introducing me to some of my favorite blue grass singer, opera singers, gospel singers, etc.