Moving Along

IMG_0457IMG_0458IMG_0467Acceptance with forgiveness arrives unexpectedly. I’ll be relieved when the interminable construction project concludes. I miss writing the serial stories and having the luxury of time to read. Today there is a lot to be thankful for.

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One Wall

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Someday there will be more walls and a deck with HOG panels. It will have to be pressure washed too.

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Looking In & Out

IMG_0449Looking in at the living room and kitchen windows. Pacing myself and not getting excited. YAY!

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Luna Salvation

Last evening my husband made an ill-advised comment that began with “You don’t understand because you don’t have children…” and ended with me making some strategic changes to my advance directive and my obituary, damn straight! My obituary and my advance directive are works in progress. I’m not kidding when I say I’ll have a bouncer and a velvet rope as I lay dying. I set the standard for childish reaction, it is my life’s work.

Each June luna moths come here to Hippy Hill. They’re drawn by the light at the steps. I am enchanted by them. This year the birds have attacked them and left nothing but shredded luna wing remains on the steps in the morning. It is a tragic situation that disturbs me. I can’t look.

This morning, as I kissed my husband goodbye, he pointed out two luna moths. We encouraged them to fly away but they wouldn’t. My husband used the grill tool to transport the luna moths, one at a time, to the edge of the woods under some ferns so the bluejays wouldn’t eat them. After he left, I made some adjustments to my documents.

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Marriage Supreme

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It is my hope that the courageously optimistic people with plans for wedded bliss will ALL live happily ever after.

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Available Now

elroyjones:

Mr. Daybell tells a good story, check it out.

Originally posted on Wretched Richard's Almanac:

TERRYCOVERMay2Electronic versions available now.  Print version available July 1.

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Pirates in the Caribbean?  That’s just the stuff of movies or amusement park rides. At least that’s what Terry thought before he washed up on a remote Caribbean island in front of the Booby Bay Cafe and found himself caught up in a cockeyed 21st century pirate adventure.

Terry and the Pirate traces his idyllic days in an island paradise where he is befriended by Albert Lafitte, the amiable proprietor of the cafe (“Our wallet did float in with us, did it not?”), beguiled by the beautiful Remy (“May I ask how long you’re going to stare at my breasts?”), nearly killed by her jealous suitors (“Hangin’ be a proper death. ”), and finally lured into the ways of piracy. 

When Albert’s cafe and sailing ship are nearly destroyed by the evil Murchison Keyes, Albert sinks into a deep Gallic depression…

View original 56 more words

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Hauling Knickers

Don’t drop your knickers.
If you must drop your knickers, don’t rush to get married.
If you get married, don’t create a business together.
If you become entangled in a business venture, don’t engage in any construction projects.
If you must construct a building, don’t waste time remembering how it was before you dropped your knickers.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Every life has pitfalls, some are huge and some inconsequential. Yesterday, I had a conversation with a woman regarding the high rate of narcotics addiction here in the Hinterland. I told her about my brothers and she said, “Terrible things have happened to you.” Don’t you worry, I didn’t waste a nanosecond before correcting that misinterpretation of events- “None of those things happened to me, they happened to my brothers, I was just a bystander.”

It can always get worse. My husband used to say about Joe, “It doesn’t get any worse than that.” I used to retort (it was a retort, that’s who I am, I’m a retorter.) “It does get worse. You could be a quad and you could have cancer and you could be home alone and the house could catch fire. Now that would be worse!”

So here I am faced with a construction dilemma, could be costly and unpleasant or maybe not. I am not wailing and wringing my hands, looking skyward asking the celestial Big Daddy, “Why do these things happen to me? What have I done to deserve this?” Bumfudgit horse pucky! There ain’t no celestial Big Daddy looking after me because if there were that would imply that I am not responsibly SELF-directed.

Whining and worrying doesn’t change things. Action changes things. Sometimes you just have to haul yourself up by the knickers and sally forth to face the world.

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