Winter

I hate winter. I am sorry. I try to be grateful and think about how we need the cold to kill the pesky bugs that eat the garden, blah, blah, blah. But the truth is, I hate it. I don't like to be cold and stuck indoors. But if I did get philosophical about it...and here I go...I  would have to say that the truth is, winter makes summer so much more wonderful. And being that I am in a "winter" season in my life, and being that things have been rough this past year...I know that when summer comes agian to my life, and I have to believe that it will...I  will appreciate that "summer" season so much more than I did before. BUT! I do hope that summer comes soon:)

Grissmill in Childersburg

Last week a friend of mine took me on a little adventure. We found this grissmill out in the boondocks. The beauty of it kinda made me forget that it is winter time...(blech). It was a fun trip!

Secret of Flying

"All it requires is simply the ability to throw yourself forward with all your weight, and the willingness not to mind that it is going to hurt...if you fail to miss the ground. Most people fail to miss the ground, and if they are really trying properly, the likelyhood is that they will fail to miss it fairly hard."
~Douglas Adams

Cali and Friends

Heather, Holly, and me in Napa

Heather's view

Birthday #33Napa

Once Broken

Once Broken, Always

A hundred pieces lay at her feet
Jagged edges, some smooth
We all have edges she thought.

Wishing,
Because she always wished
That she had the time to fit the pieces back together

Knowing,
Once broken, never the same,
Not plates, not vases, not people.

Why do places have different personalities?

Have you ever thought about that before? Some places feel sad and forgotten like an old town. Some places feel like they have a secret. Others feel unfamiliar and cold. And some just feel like home. People have those traits too don't you think? Some people have an anxious vibe, like they are busy trying to get somewhere, but they never "get" there. Others feel like a cold winter day...gray. And some people just feel like home...safe. Who doesn't love that feeling, like you can just "be" and that it is okay.

A poem for Hey

Mole
By Zack Strait

(for Heeather)


You burrowed into my chest
and it tickled my ribs.

I've never been thin,
So I'm sure you stayed warm in there.

You'd look out at me all the time
with your beady little eyes.

Your home, which once offered a soft glow,
became a gaping wound
when you left.

It was then that I realized
you'd feasted on my soiled heart,
it was a freaking ten course meal.
All you left me were the scraps.