I have been spending a lot of time out and about in the world.
I’ve been to the symphony, argued with a friend, tried to figure out what wine tasting is all about and indulged in a new variety of Marshmallow Peeps called ” Delights“.
I guess I wanted to add a little pep to my writing and that’s the way I do it- I sort of jump into things and start swimming and hope a shark doesn’t pop up and bite me in half.
Tonight I walked my dog Hamish Macbeth and on our walk he tried to eat a rotten sandwich, cat poop and he ate a mouthful of yard clippings. When we got home I gave him a Peanut Butter Girl Scout cookie and he dropped it on the floor uneaten.
I picked it up and offered it to him and he took it, looked at me for a minute and let it drop back out of his mouth and it landed on the floor, only slightly soggy and hardly even chewed.
I considered throwing it under a bush because I wondered if he found it tomorrow if he’d eat it then.
Why bother, I decided.
I know the answer.
I saw some big things, small things weird things and I was glad I was there.
Now it’s time to write again.
The world is a great place.
See it often.
A long time ago I was told
that everyone has dreams
and sometimes those dreams come true.
All of my dreams are nightmares.
And they always seem to come true.
I don’t like to dream anymore.
This was painted on one of those temporary walls they put up at construction sights.
I’m not sure what is says, but it’s pink and the creature in it is fierce.
I like both of those things.
This is my dog, Hamish Macbeth.
Hamish hates my phone- this is what he does to me when I’m using it.
He reminds me of the looks my Mom gave me when I was laying on my bed listening to my music full blast on my headphones and I’d open my eyes and…
I took this at Women’s March in Seattle in January.
I like the way everyone looks sort of ghostly except for the message.
I’m not sure if that is good or bad.
It was time- my hair needed work.
So on THE DAY I put on my favorite Dior Makeup- which is what I do when I’m serious about cleaning up and looking a little less rough around the edges as usual and I took myself to my stylist of over 20 years.
” Oh. ” he said. ” Well. It’s not that bad.”
He picked up a brush and tapped it against the palm of his hand and did not smile.
So he worked his magic and set me under the dryer where I was left to consider not skipping out on my appointments. ” Well at least I didn’t have to wear a ponytail.” I said with a light little laugh.
The silence was deafening.
I always have high hopes for these days- and guess what my hair did end up looking pretty awesome…it was bouncy and the color was just right…it felt perfect…
now if we could just do something about what is UNDER it:
What can I say.
I live in hope.