I have so many words in me right now that they are getting in a bunch trying fight their way out. One thought leaps in and then connects me to another thought which in turn has me on another tangent. If I don't start writing them down I'm sure I will explode, or even implode, I don't know which I would prefer.
Each day I wake up in awe of where I am and what I'm doing. The same thing over and over and over. The aluminum stovetop percolator is showing evidence of wear from my tired hand holding the wooden handle every morning. EVERY damn morning. The little bubble of green glass, where I watch the coffee pop up and plop back down, falls out when I set the pot. Does it want to escape, too?
Fergie the wonder vizsla
Zingo Bingo! Anyone?
"Buchta" January 10, 1999 - November 12, 2008
Death is beautiful when seen to be a law, and not an accident - It is as common as life. ~Henry David Thoreau, 11 March 1842, letter to Ralph Waldo Emerson
Sometimes you just need a different view
Some Pigs!
Best of Show Eggs
2009 Saginaw County Fair
About Me
- Mechelle
- As a child I would sit on my hands, palm side up, to try to get the sticky off them. This was especially important to do after eating an orange. Then in the next breath I would pour Elmer's glue all over my palm, spread it thinly, and wait for it to dry. Once it was dry I would carefully peel it off and then bury it in the flower pot outside. I've learned to use soap and warm water, my oldest son has a fascination with glue, I still can't find pants that "fit", I would like to burn all socks and bras (except of course those that I wear to run), and if I didn't run everyday I would need to be medicated, heavily, with either Prozac or chocolate. Then I really would have a difficult time finding pants that fit.
1 comment:
I'm glad you're getting them out. I don't want you to explode.
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