Painting Memories

Painting Memories

Memories are precious things.  Moments captured often without purpose that can be triggered by the most unassuming of events – a song on the radio, a smell from the kitchen, a word not often spoken.  We don’t recognize we’re creating memories when...
It’s oh so quiet.

It’s oh so quiet.

It is sneaking up on 8:00, my dog is at my feet, my daughter is nestled up next to me reading her book, the fireplace is painting the room a wonderfully warm glow, and there’s the faintest of snowfalls decorating the world outside.  That’s it....
I can’t quite put my finger on it…

I can’t quite put my finger on it…

The patellar tendon.  The medial collateral ligament.  The A2 pulley.  Flexor tendons.  All words and all parts of the body that I didn’t know until I needed to.  Among so many others, these words coincide with the various injuries I’ve managed to sustain...
Monday, Tuesday,  Weekday, Workday

Monday, Tuesday, Weekday, Workday

MondayTuesdayWeekdayWorkdayThursdayFridayNow it’s my dayA day when I will not go farI may not even start my car Say! Perhaps I’ll even play guitar! Yes. Days press on, yet time is few. Not much of it is ours to choose. Some days are strong And some go...
Stuff

Stuff

As per the usual Saturday morning tradition, I grabbed an extra 30 minutes or so of slumber, meandered my way down stairs, poured a cup of coffee, sat on the couch and opened my computer to begin my weekend ritual.  I get the brain juices flowing with the the Wordle...