CANCER (10/3/2019)

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I Hate, HATE (6/12/2018)

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I fell down a terrible rabbit whole.  Wait...   While this is true, I am getting ahead of myself a bit.   Let me try again.     First I’ll indulge in a little self-deprecation.   In honor of my dad who thought blonde jokes were the funniest jokes ever told (which I have grown to understand that they are actually very offensive) Here’s a joke that describes me recently:   Three blondes walk into a building…You’d think at least one of them would’ve seen it! But I digress… Do you ever suddenly realize the universe, the powers that be, god, (whatever you want to call it), SOMETHING is trying to get your attention and you’ve been missing the hints for a while?   I like to kid myself into thinking that I am “aware” and “in tune” with things.   But, there are times that I blithely and quite literally, “blondely” miss things that are practically slapping me in the face.   I think it actually started subtlety, a few years ago…...
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Nostalgia is a funny thing.   Triggered by smells, sights, sounds or just a brief flash back – a glimpse of a wistful memory or moment long past, but recalled with affection.   As summer comes to a close for so many school aged children, and kids head back to school, I have found that I am indulging in my childhood memories of summer.   The most vivid of my memories are of the summers that took place at Falls Creek Ranch.   I can close my eyes and feel the cool mornings and cool evenings on my skin.   I can smell the fresh mountain air seeping in through the window screens.   I can hear my mom’s voice floating up the stairs.   As annoying as it was when I was a kid that she was always so chipper in the mornings, her pleasant morning singing and the noises of her clambering around the kitchen soothe me now in my memories.      I suppose that my mom's descriptive adjectives of summer might not be the same as mine.   But, I’m not...
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