The first time I ever felt grown-up, like an adult. The first time I ever felt old

was the day I put, ” set up a calander and check the batteries in the clock ” on the top of my to do list.

I remember that day because as I stood there in my kitchen, making my list, I noticed I was writing my letters on my pad a little bit bigger.

I brought the pad of paper up to my face. I held it away from my face I set it down. I wandered

over to to my table top wine rack like a dry autumn leaf being pushed down the street by a chilly little breeze.

I  poured myself a drink and then it hit me,

I was born in  1964 .

No matter how you do the math, that was a long time ago.

It was a sad day, the day I realized that not only was I a calander buying adult who fretted over her clocks but I was old too.

For the most part I got over that chilly realization on the day it first hit me.

On that day  in my kitchen as I sipped my wine I made my mind up to the fact that

time tugs at the end of it’s leash like an unruly dog and you can either keep walking it the best way you can

or you can stop taking it for walks and let  watch it play in the yard instead.

As the kids cool kids  say, ” It is what it is “

On the other hand, I still buy calenders and I  always check to make sure my clocks are running on time.

WP Daily Prompt: What Things Give You Energy?

I like to explore, empty houses, broken houses, houses where the basement doors are nailed shut and even though the frames are empty, there are still curtains in various stages of rot in decay hanging in the windows.

 These empty houses stand alone in fields, sometimes they stand quietly on streets where the lawns and trees in it’s neighbors yards are trimmed and watered and coddled and fed a healthy diet of fertilizer.

I like the empty houses, the ruined houses, the houses that have nightmares every night.

And if I can’t find a ruined house with bones buried in the basement and shadows huddled in the attic

I make them- one street at a time.