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Thursday, May 11, 2017

Mornings. Musings in (Literally) Wild Disarray...

Ala Cynthia Lee... @restoried.explorations on instagram...
what could i do to make my morning contain more magic.  I find it so easy on the days of sun and spring ... laundry on the line, oh my!! but add a little cloud cover, a boy who won't put his sneakers on or a pile of poo in the hallway courtesy of the dog i call 'asshole' in my head too often, whom i love to pieces, disregarding the poo at every turn... complications yes.

How can i add more magic?  Hm.

Drink the coffee while it is still hot. Tattoo the location of the mug on my palm?

Time, time, time. . .  .to see what's become of me... bangles... i can't help it, i still want to be the little vixenish lead singer and I'm still used-to-be blond and still not a singer after all.

- just heard a man called Jeremiah order his food.  I LOVE THAT NAME. And automatically love him too.  I'm sure he deserves it.

-I've made a pledge of sorts to go sit in a coffee shop once a week and write something there. The mild socialization i will get from people-watching might benefit my coffee-addled self.

-for sure, less of the social media. For sure.



-I've got some things percolating for the summer and I'm really mostly pleased.  I'm a little bit daunted too, frankly, as it is definitely new and a little bit outside of my experience, even. I need to ask for help, and I will. I'm actually going to go do that now, while I am thinking about it - and before i forget for another couple of days... summer is far away, but it really isn't...

-ok, done. Waiting.

-Also realized that a mom friend from preschool has a husband named Zeb.  I just have always been swept away by those didiah biblical names.  I just can't imagine any harm coming from a name like that. Right?

-did you know that the teeny tiny black caterpillars that will turn into gypsy moth motherfuckers also pack an itch punch? Yes. This is like a little fuzzy poisonball that is covering all the surfaces of my yard. Yet another reason to burn it all to the ground.  They say you have to stand in ash to be reborn.

- no really, that one up above is a little creepy.  I'm not going to become an arsonist.  I've got too many things on my list to become.


1 comments:

Cynthia C. said...

I cannot say I love this post enough times .. I love your words and your wit! Oh my goddess, woman ... you crack me up and make me want to cry all at the same time. That is a gift of expression.