Are you just sick of it all already?
Maybe you are just sick of it all and, well, I apologize. ‘Cause I’m not sick of it yet. It’s been 8 long years, baby, eight years of nothing but bad news getting worse. Eight years of torture, war, mass extinction, melting glaciers and despair. And the end of those eight years of hell is close, hope is near, change is comin’, the dark days are numbered and life will begin again … Do you feel me? You’ve got to feel me.
It’s a crazy beautiful fall day here, sky crisp and bright blue. Leaves – oh, the fall colors of the leaves! Growing up in SoCal, I never really believed those lovely Little Golden Books, the ones with daffodils and tulips for spring, flaming gold and scarlet trees in autumn, drifting snowflakes and cheery sleds for winter. We got Santa Ana winds and wildfires changing to rain that oil-slicked roads and caused massive pileups, and then what ho! It was smog-alert season again, and there goes a child’s year of seasons. Not so in P-town, baby. Here, we get the best of them all: crocuses and tulips, summer thundershowers, drifting technicolor leaves, frosty mornings and enough snow most years for at least a petite snowman. And I loves it.
Domestic day ahead for me — a 4th birthday party to attend, a costume to make, some sewing to do. And, I hope, some writing time. I’ve got some ideas percolating …