It was 3AM when I got the call. It had been an odd day. Out of the blue, or so, it seemed at the time, this volunteer lady with VON just somehow called me, and she drove me back that day to the cottage from the hospital. As she was driving me, she goes “now I have insomnia, so don’t you hesitate to call me, … Continue reading Hazey Dayz and Angelz
Sitting on the front porch this morning, on the front little stoop, smoking my cylinder of sin; This canine at my feet. Within a patch of sun, I massaged her toes. Bliss Tis this moment. When rain finally gives way, and the dawn brings the light, I rise. I wake with the sun, As the night sheds it mantel. She is good, this one. She … Continue reading The Best Grief Counselors have Four Legs
Good grief, make it stop. Today I fear will be just as the R of T&R forecasted … we are in for a wallop of snow. It’s Grey County in all its glory. T&R are the earth angels who live down the street. They are my lifesaving chauffeur into the bright & booming village to buy my supplies. They have truly been wonderful since Tim … Continue reading Fiddle-dee-dee & Snowflakes
These rolling hills of the sensuous and the sorrow, this slippery slope, my feet are having trouble keeping everything on course. I try meandering, on words ~ like plenteous ~ Yet as this sensuous sadness takes ahold, I go to sleep hopeful, and awake early refreshed. Every day. Through tears atleast you know that you are alive. In grief at birth, as at death. Join … Continue reading Fortunes In A Box
Today was a good day. I actually knocked stuff off the TO DO list. Made progress, walked the dog, ate a good dinner. Best thing is I have a plan of attack and … alls ….well….all is better. I even went into our room today; and yes the tears came, but I just kept at it. Atleast today I got enough done that I feel … Continue reading Mine, His, Theirs
Ok, so I too dream of being a writer. Which I suppose in this venue is akin to admitting you like flying at a flight school. More on that later. First, a couple of stories. I always thought that writers wrote fiction. Scholars and famous people wrote Memoirs and such. Who would want to read about little old me and my life? Yet, why not. … Continue reading What dreams may come
by PaulaB 