Let me start by saying that I truly, honestly, have no issue with people doing as they like. I believe everyone should be free to love whom they want, look how they want to look. Really, there’s not much that gets me going, so long as they are not telling me how to live my life. To…
For my father on Father’s Day. I forgive you. It’s okay. I’m letting go because that is what is best for me. The weight of it, the lack of story, tradition, history, has simply become too heavy for me to carry any longer. I’m not sure when pain started attaching itself to me. When the missed, ignored and forgotten became…
What if I run out of time? There a lot of things I want to do, but I’m not ready yet. It’s not the right time or I lack experience. Things take time, work. I know, but how much time do I have? See things would be easier, I would be able to plan, if…
Sugar and I are breaking up. Our relationship has gotten to the point that it’s toxic, and quite frankly, a one way street. I indulge, often over indulge, in him and he gives me nothing in return. Sure there’s a high the first time we meet after I’ve stayed away for a while, but it’s…
This morning’s hike was a gift. It’s starting to get warmer here in the desert. We are already into the 80s and the 90s are mere days away. It’s the trade off for our wonderful winter. Yucky hot summers. I’ve been anticipating, taking all things that can melt out to my car in preparation. Summer is…
The key to life, well one of the keys anyway, is never being afraid of the drop. I used to play these string games as a kid, on the playground. The string or shoelace, or ribbon, just about anything, I remember using dental floss, is tied in a loop. The loop is then threaded through…
I’m always a little overzealous with the Spackle. The less is more philosophy sort of goes out the window and I find myself not only covering up unsightly cracks or holes, but trying to get the wall back to it’s original state. My enthusiastic efforts usually create patches. I overdo it and then I have…
I am a stitch, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I saw the Gebelein Man (Ginger) at the British Museum today. I’ve seen him before, but this time my thoughts are lingering. He was a young man, wounded in the shoulder, and buried in a shallow grave. The hot sand mummified him over…
When Maggie was younger, she played with snails in our backyard. She would dig through the dirt, make them little leaf houses, talk to them, and then beg me to let her bring them in her room. This went on for a while and then one day her brother and sister got involved. They grabbed a…