I come from a generation that will laugh (or if you are Scottish, enter one 'OCH, nooo' scough) when I say this, but...
Walk into an actual bank branch, first thing in the morning.
At least in my case, on this drrrrreary morning, it was very pleasant. At first, I was a bit frustrated, as there was an abnormally long queue. Then, before I could even get a "Bollocks" out, I realized that I'd been greeted by about 15 "Grammys" - that is, the name of my sweet grandmother, not the statue. The place was a flutter with small, elderly ladies, out in their morning hats, tweed and/or plaid (tartan) shin-length, a-line skirts, and lovely, understated jewelry and handbags. They were making a trip to the bank, no doubt amongst other errands and home-keeping duties.
It put a huge smile on my face. Pure nostalgia? A shallow form of contentment? Maybe, but much, much reveled in today...
Mom, Dad and HUNLEY come tomorrow evening! I cannot wait to squeeze all their necks! Thoughts for safe travel are appreciated.
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