Come What May

Transformer blew,
     the sky turned blue,
 and then I knew . . . "OH SHIT". 

No lights for DAYS! 
No t.v. WAVES! 
No Facebook FAVES . . . "OH SHIT"! 

Two hours later, I had a dream. 
I saw a light, I saw a beam. 
I woke and saw my lamp was on. 
Am I AWAKE? Can this be REAL?

It was, indeed, to my surprise. 
A welcome sight to my tired eyes. 
And, in the morning, Sandy was gone,
     scattered branches on the lawn. 

We were lucky. 
Some, not so much. 
Power outages, trees falling, flooding, and such.

For those in need, if you need a place to stay, 
     just hop in your car and head our way. 
And, just remember, the sun will shine again. 
As the old saying goes, 
     "come what may" . . . 
                        "come what may".   

Glass Shards

When I rubbed my hand and my fingers across his back,  through his thick, gray and white fur,
     I could feel pieces of things -
scratchy things, bumpy things, like . . . leaves, sticks, and such.   
I could not see those things; I could only FEEL them.

It felt as if my hand could get lost in his fur - so thick, and so . . .  DEEP.

How did it GET that way?

Then, I felt something sharp, and I began to pull it out - a tiny piece of glass.
I went in again, and found another piece, small and sharp.
One by one, I pulled out the tiny pieces of glass shards.

How did they GET there?

My poor dog, Charlie.

And . . . then, I woke up.    

I wonder why I had THAT dream, I thought.
Then, I remembered.
I had broken the lid of my crock pot, just the night before.
It shattered into pieces - shards of glass spilling everywhere.

And, also, I remembered that Charlie needs a haircut.      
 

. . . of the day.

Coffee Mug -

     Duck's Cottage



Weather -

     Beautiful!  Crisp, Fall morning.
Autumn colors everywhere.
Expected to warm into the 70's.



 Mood -


    Peaceful.  Mellow, but motivated.

 
Question -

     Should I quit the Boxing membership that I signed up for a month ago?
              Didn't I just say I was motivated?  But . . .

•    I have only gone 3 times, and do I see that changing in the near future?
•    In the meantime, I am spending money that I should probably be saving.  
•    If I do quit, I need to come up with another plan for exercise.
•    If I decide to quit, I need to give myself permission to do so.  

Goals -

•  Make appointments for eyes, teeth, and girl parts.  

• Mail birthday cards to my daughter and my niece.

• Dog stinks and needs a haircut.     

• Organize office area :  Sort through paperwork, get rid of clutter, make area a more creative space for writing.  

 Other thoughts - 

I wonder who has more fun running and chasing in the backyard - the dog or the squirrel?
Of course, the dog can jump on trees . . .

Ha, ha! I mean, the SQUIRREL can jump on trees.
Hmmmm.
Sudden idea for a children's story?

Possibly . . .

     possibly . . . . . . .

The Shape of a Heart

She could not speak a word of English.

Speaking, instead, with her hands,
     and those dark, expressive eyes.

I felt a "tap, tap" on my shoulder, and looked up to find her holding
      a ball of play-doh in one hand,
 a heart-shaped cookie cutter, in the other.

And, I immediately understood.

     "Do you want me to help you?" I asked.

Her eyes and her smile told me "yes".

I placed the ball of play-doh on the table, and showed her how to roll it out with the rolling pin.   

     "First, this way," I said.  "And, now, this way."

We rolled it together until it was big enough for the cookie cutter to fit.

She placed the heart on top of the dough, and together, we pressed down firmly.

      "Now, lift it up!"  I said.

And, she did.

Her face lit up, as she stared at the perfectly shaped figure,
     and traced it with her perfectly shaped finger. 

I showed her how to pull up the dough around it, leaving ONLY the heart.   

Her smile was even brighter.       

Carefully, she peeled the heart off the table,
     and held it in her hands . . .  like a treasure.

She walked around the classroom with this heart in her hands,
      just staring and smiling.    

But, soon . . . "tap, tap" on my shoulder again.

She lifted her heart up for me to see.  

She had taken her heart shaped "cookie" over to the texture table (which was filled with oats),
     and sprinkled it with oats.    

I smiled at her and thought, what a clever girl.

     "This is the most beautiful heart I have ever seen," I told her.

And, it was.