I step outside,
The air is fresh,
There are strawberries for breakfast.
The sky is blue,
The doves offer encores,
It’s a good day to be alive.
Can I hold this moment,
This tiny thread of peace and joy,
In a world gone mad?
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Spring is coming on fast. It’s different everywhere. Here the wisteria and the lilacs and the forsythia all brighten up the place. The roadrunners make an appearance hurrying down the sidewalk. The wind blows so hard even a tiny spark can turn into a raging wildfire. But the best of spring is that it reminds you it’s good to be alive. It’s good to be outside in the sun where the air is fresh and the birds are singing. Wake up, world.
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The Good Time Dance Hall had open sides and loud speakers. Very loud speakers. When it was time for a dance party in the village, the speakers attracted more than people to the party. If you were foolish enough to wander into the darkness you could see foxes, antelope, rabbits and maybe even a wolf or two dancing and prancing in a party of their own.
Most people didn’t know about the party crashers, but I did. I took my . . .
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“What’s for breakfast?” he asked. He strode into the kitchen fully dressed, briefcase in hand. The boys were at the counter eating what they always ate – cereal. Which he’d know if he ever paid the least bit of attention to anyone but himself.
“Belgian waffles with strawberries,” I answered.
“Ah, good,” he said. He grabbed the coffee I’d set out for him, gave me a peck on the cheek. “Have a good one,” he said, and he was gone.
Maybe I should increase the amount of slow acting poison I’m putting in his coffee. Faster is better.
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Why are tiny people such loud speakers? They embarrass you in restaurants with their loud voices. They yell into the phone so you must move it away from your ear. They demand to be seen because they are shorter than all the normal speakers out there. “Hear me now!” they say in loud voices. “Hear me!”
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Momma Maudie ran the family. She made up the rules and decided what everyone would do to help the family. Sometimes the littlest ones had ideas of their own. An “ahem” from Momma Maudie would shut them down fast. She gave me the job of finding out how we could get rich with cryptocurrency. I made her rich, but me too, and then I took off for Portugal and never looked back. So long, Momma Maudie!
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I have a tiny garden area on my patio. Is it enough room to plant the three sisters – corn, beans, and squash – in the spring? Will there be enough corn for it to pollinate? Will there be enough room for the squash to spread? And most important of all, will I feel more connected to the earth and the gift of food if my garden grows well?
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Image credit: Anna Juchnowicz, CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons
I was on the N-95 heading west in one of those multi-seat helicars. You know, the old fashioned ones where the batteries used to catch fire all the time. Well, anyway, I was headed west and I saw him heading east. He was in the newer type of helicar that only holds 1 person and goes 200 mph. I’m sure it was him! He’s unmistakable even at that speed.
I’m sure you can catch him at a terminal.
Are you going to mail me a reward?
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The shoes were 30 years old, often worn, but seemingly indestructible. The soles looked brand new. Those shoes lasted longer than her marriage, her career, her home ownership. She resolved to wear them every day, every damn day, until her life took a turn for the better. They would bring her luck. They would!
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Emily Dickinson said, “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.” We’re living in a time that can crush hope. What we need are ways to rebuild hope, rebuild the idea of a future for ourselves and our planet. Have you found a way? Activism, voting, buying an electric car – what will it take to make us feel like we are part of the solution and not part of the problem?
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