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Just shooting the poop with Lori |
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He travels the world on the backs of others Insignificant in his stature and size His journey carries no mission Randomly roaming at the will of his host Sated enough to never question his trek Life is an open adventure without worry If the excitement of his dusty trail dulls Another bus awaits to grant passage With a furry friend to carry him home Ah the wonderful life of a flea |
| A block, made of cement and porous in nature, resides in my brain when I am introduced to the blank page. Page and I have met many times before, but with each new meeting we are strangers once more. Page and me, we have sometimes spent just moments apart and sometimes days on end. And always, we are different and unfamiliar with one another. There has been change, growth, and character-building exercises for us both. Before each new start we must come to understand the nuances of one another. A sensual escape of the possibilities is required before our communion. Page and I have to agree on the adventure we seek.Even though there is newness to the friendship, I have no doubt of beautiful fraternity that awaits us. |
| It is a rainy,rainy, water-filled, soggy,drippy, precipitating, wet, Monday that makes you want to do nothing but sleep. So I did,good thing I wasn't scheduled to work. My mind is numb at the moment and I planned on writing a bit today. I will need to give myself time to rouse the cobwebs from my brain before I attempt this feat. Wish me luck, because the rain continues to fall and the couch looks so cozy. |
| As the snow begins to fall around me, I reminisce. Nostalgia seems to coexist with the graceful beauty of winter. There is peace found in the picturesque view of snowy fields from the warmth of home. Soup, biscuits, and hot chocolate present themselves as the perfect comfort foods. I can recall the hills I have plunged down on speeding sleds. I remember cozy mornings of my youth wrapped in warm quilts waiting for the school closing announcements. It bothers me that those days are just another thing the pandemic has taken away from our kids. They will now be expected to attend virtually on snow days and will never know the joy of snuggling around the fire waiting for news of a free day. I remember endless snowball fights with friends and family. Never will I forget the shocking way snow down the shirt made you feel. I remember my mom calling after me to put my hat on and doing just that until I was out of her sight. She used to say, "You will stay much warmer if your head is covered." I didn't believe her until I got older and didn't care if I looked like a dork. I remember packs of kids walking to the store during the snow to get needed supplies or just to take the opportunity to socialize. I remember earning money by shoveling snow. I remember wearing bread wrappers on my feet and buying my first pair of moon-boots.It all seems so long ago but very close to my heart as the flakes glide tenderly through the air. |
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| Having felt like I have lived within the pages of a Stephen King novel for the last few months, I choose to pull the good from the bad. First, the writing in this 2020 book was definitely intense and kept you on the edge of your seat. I mean come on who could make this s**** up? I have come to truly appreciate the people in my life, not that I didn't before, but the phrase "I've got your back." takes on more meaning than you could ever imagine. Family and friends mean the world to me. And then there are the people I share my work space with and I cannot put into words the way each and everyone of them have lifted me up, kept me from crying, fed me, and humbled me when we celebrated our wins of making it through another night. They are all part of my large extended family. And to the beautiful neighbors, I love and adore that we are so close and vested in each others lives. So I say cheers to all of my loved ones, hoping for a bigger and brighter new year. I will be toasting each and everyone of you with sparkling cider or cranberry juice at the 2C nurses station come midnight. |
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