Pressed between the
pages of a dusty photo album is a picture of me at about twenty years old -- wearing
an unsightly black eye and a band-aid. A few days earlier, I had tumbled off my
water skis, and the tip of the ski clobbered my cheekbone. In my vain youth, I
worried about a scar, so I went to a doctor who sewed a few stitches and later
sanded it down. If the ski had hit an inch or so higher, well, I’d rather
not think about that.
My whims are about winding my way through this earthly journey. At my side are a dictionary, a book of synonyms, and a thesaurus. If any intelligence is found here, it is genuine and not artificial.
Thursday, May 21, 2020
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
The show must go on, no matter what
Hooded Mergansers 🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺 Barry and I drove about an hour and a half south of where we live to see Dailey & Vincent in concert. We f...
-
W hen the service ended, I walked through the church doors and down the front steps, and there stood Samuel (not his real name), waiti...
-
M y niece announced on social media that she wrote and published a book. When I read the post, I reacted with quiet jealously, coiling...
-
I found an old bucket in the woods and planted a mum in it. Over the years, the roots of this plant have been buried under snow, froz...