There used to be

I loved the song California Dreamin. I could fantasize about being at the love-ins in San Francisco. I could just see long flowing hair and lithe bodies dancing with flowers in their hair.

And I used to dream about being gorgeous and well put together with money and great taste. Again, I would be beautiful like Angelina and have a lithe strong body that looked great in clothes.

Now I dream of seeing the grandkids, of making it upstairs with some of my breath left, of having a strong heart that just keeps going like the energizer bunny. And I look like the above photo.

Dreams are just that. Dreams. In order for them to come true it takes work. Go figure.