I'll tell you a half-dozen things that happened to me in Indiana when I went that far west to teach. You tell me if it was worth it. I lived in the country with my dog— part of the bargain of coming. And there was a pond with fish from, I think, China. I felt them sometimes against my feet. Also, they crept out of the pond, along its edges, to eat the grass. I'm not lying. And I saw coyotes, two of them, at dawn, running over the seemingly unenclosed fields. And once a deer, but a buck, thick-necked, leaped into the road just-oh, I mean just, in front of my car— and we both made it home safe. And once the blacksmith came to care for the four horses, or the three horses that belonged to the owner of the house, and I bargained with him, if I could catch the fourth, he, too, would have hooves trimmed for the Indiana winter, and apples did it, and a rope over the neck did it, so I won something wonderful; and there was, one morning, an owl flying, oh pale angel, into the hay loft o
i feel that ways some days, doesn't everybody?....jc
ReplyDeleteI certainly do.
ReplyDeleteYour blog is the classiest, most inspiring, deadliest, livingest, most viral, most nourishing
ReplyDeleteBLOG OF THE YEAR- SO FAR IN 2008
Forgive me my enthusiasm; but I've been suddenly smitten, not by an artist, a writer, a photographer, a poet. But, a nurse, a person who is close to death every single second of her life.
May you be the angel I see when nothing around me is alive.
Thank you.
SO FAR.
How can I top a comment like Lakeviewer?
ReplyDeleteGail, you could make it Best blog in 2009!
ReplyDeletePretty grim sight. when someone looks like that at my house, I want to be the queen of clorax, then murphy's oil soap AND open the windows!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the comments. Hubby's been looking a tad grim despite my homemade chicken soup(contains a bottle of beer). Next comes the clorox wash up.
ReplyDeletelakeviewer--thank you for your accolades. I'm overwhelmed...! One small correction, I only work three days/week so not ALL of my seconds are spent next to death, the damn stalker. I know what you mean though. Again, thank you and welcome!
Let's get back to talking about snot nosed men-they are the worst patients in the world, especially if you're married to one. If mine would just take to bed when ill, all would be well. But no, he can't do that. His feelings are that misery loves company and so he shares with all of us.
ReplyDeleteI'm gobsmacked by your readership. You must be one tired chickie trying to do the blog rounds.
hahaha.
ReplyDeleteI see there's a huge difference between Man Cold and Mancake!
ReplyDeleteLove the comments of the commentators. They are deserving sorts, hard working and good judge of characters-like the lazy men we might find in our living rooms waiting for the good lady to return from work and cook him dinner.
ReplyDeleteLadies, we spoiled them as boys. Now we have them as grown-ups, wishing they were still boys.
I blame myself for everything that I tolerated. I have earned the pleasures and the pains. Now, if I could only pass on some good advice to the unmarried.....
Deep. It's very grounded. I'll be like that one day..only shorter..and maybe more scary and cynical!
ReplyDeleteHello, and may many shiny objects come your way. Be choosy: being easily distracted by shininess myself, I have had to learn the hard way to pick up only the best. My pouch on coming home is discovered to be full of dross. Discerning quality is very much an art at which I am but a dabbler.
ReplyDeleteFine blog, with much heart. Thank you for being part of colours in the kaleidoscope that bewilders us all.
PS: The Desiderata poem ought to have a citation. It was written by Max Ehrmann.