Every good story has a beginning and end.
Before our semi-blizzard on Monday, it rained and then, a moment passed and it rained some more. Everything was rained upon and unceremoniously turned to ice when artic air hit it. In the middle of this drenching rain, I got a text from my friend out West: Please send some rain this direction...we are absolutely parched! To which I replied: Maddie: We are taking the rain hostage. Send money. That is probably why I got punished with all that snow and ice, and lets not forget the blizzard.The Japnese Maple still hangs on to it leaves.
"Being happy doesn't mean everything is perfect. It means that you've decided to look beyond the imperfections.” Author Unknown
When was the last time that you were so deliriously happy that you smiled from the inside out? When was the last time you went sledding, ice skating, or played so hard, your cheeks got red? When was the last time you left your computer screen for a little fun outside? Don't you think it is time that you did?
I have one footprint, not mine... going to my door at the house. No shoes, in the snow, apparently with one leg and not the other. Cold much? Probably, but, where did the foot go, and more importantly, where did it come from?
You can see beyond the blur, but, can you imagine beyond the field of vision, where there is certainty in the anticipation of things to come?
You can't depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus. ~ Mark Twain
Unsolicited guests: Early darkness, short shadows, and a chill in the air. I'm sure that I won't invite them again anytime soon. That doesn't even end quite properly as it should. I was trying to be short and sweet, but, seems hard for me to write, so tomorrow I will make it shorter and try harder.
All I have are my words, armed in my mind, written in pen, stand by stand. Oh, yes. Still by hand. It has a different feel. Altered not by keys, backspace, and delete, I write, erase, tear it to pieces and start all over again. And again.
It’s my way. I walk out to the deep end of the page and dive right in.
Incoming snowball! That's the way I like it.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost
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