Stop me if I’ve told you this before. Oh, right. You don’t know what I’m talking about yet. Well, when I was a kid I had these gold colored cap guns. Shaped like six shooters. They used caps that came in a disc with six shots. I had a plastic holsters to carry them in – one on each hip. I tell you, I was so cool carrying those cap guns down the street, I could hardly stand myself.
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I don’t really care that the exact moment when the sun is directly over the equator comes on March 20 most years. Equinox squeecanox. To me spring begins on March 21 and that’s that. No question about it. Why? Spring is my birthday present, mine personally. And that means it comes on March 21.
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I seem to miss a day now and then posting on the blog lately. I don’t mean to. Maybe it’s the political situation, or maybe it’s me recovering from 2 surgeries in quick succession, but this blog isn’t the first thing on my mind some days. If, by some horrible omission, I do miss a day, please feel free to dig into the archives. Writing prompts are everywhere.
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She knew the inventory. She knew right where to take a customer who wanted stretch pants with pockets or a long sleeved white shirt. She also knew her days were numbered. Help for customers was no longer the thing. Now they were supposed to wander the store for 45 minutes, helplessly searching for the item they wanted. And buying more stuff along the way.
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Out in the middle of nowhere, AKA Cline’s Corners New Mexico, there’s a wind turbine that looks like an egg beater. It’s one of those failed designs that was supposed to be better for birds than the windmill type wind turbines we mostly use. I convinced my granddaughter that the Cline’s Corners turbine was used to scramble eggs for the restaurant below. People can be convinced to believe anything at all.
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Funny how you remember things. I remember the first time I heard of Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, the famous Mexican poet. It was during a stay at college. I was in a car with a woman I’d recently met and she mentioned Sor Juana. I’ve remembered and been interested in Sor Juana ever since but I barely remember the woman. Her name was Jane, I think. At the time I was quite smitten with Jane, but it’s Sor Juana I remember.
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When I first moved to New Mexico many years ago, I told the gas station attendant (yeah, that long ago) to be sure the car’s antifreeze was good to 20 below. He looked at me like I was crazy, but, no, I was just from Colorado. You never hear much about antifreeze these days – have cars changed? Have radiators changed? What’s the story on antifreeze in 2017?
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I remember my mom saying, “use your own two feet,” when I complained about wanting to go somewhere she didn’t have time to take me. Way back then, I didn’t realize what a gift it was to have two good feet and two good legs that would propel me through space and take me places with ease. Feet, knees, legs, I want to thank you for your service. You’ve done well.
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It sounds like gravel rain above my head, like sprinkling a sack of candy under a broken piñata. Then follows the crunch of heavy boots and the spreading noise of sweeping. Grit and dust shower down from ancient things dislodged. This roof, it’s a filthy job.
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Are you a thrift store shopper or do you want your new clothes to actually be new clothes? I do a bit of both. When you are still wearing 25 year old tee shirts, maybe finding new clothes of any kind isn’t really your main focus in life.
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