Unmentionables
We didn’t have a clothes dryer growing up. I didn’t know anybody who did!
We didn’t have a clothes dryer growing up. I didn’t know anybody who did!
The all-consuming love for my grandchildren never “grows up!” They mature in the blink of an eye, yet their tenacious grip on my heart persists incrementally.
I’ve missed hugs during this pandemic. Elbow bumps just don’t cut it for me.
My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a watered shoot;
My heart is like an apple tree
Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these
Because my love is come to me.
This is one of those days that I need a vacation from my churning thoughts. I have a bad habit of solving realistic, yet make-believe scenarios in my head based on actual situations in which I’m currently a “supporting actor”
I was watching a documentary about the newly discovered 23,000 year-old human footprints found on the dried up Lake Otera in White Sands, New Mexico.