Wednesday, January 6, 2016


On the way to work this morning I spotted some flowers in a jar perched right at the spot where Tiffany died and the tire tracks are still visible on the edge of a shallow ditch.  I passed it that spot three more times afterwards, and paused to reflect each time on how things can change in the blink of an eye.  One minute your priority is what's for lunch and the next it's what to wear to the next funeral.  There was a big hoorah going on up at the sawmill when I left to see Mama at the home.  She was sacked out and sawing logs, just like when I went by with clean clothes at 6AM.  I think I just heard the hoorah fly toward Jackson as Air Evac roared over my house.  Pecan Lane is a very happening edge of municipal Dyersburg type of home resting comfortably next to green number umm?.

The garbage piles are shrinking because I'm sick of looking at ugly shit and so it shall be.  More and more piles are being made and sweeping is going on but not too much because GOOD lord the dust.  I could use some hepa filters right about this point.  Estate sale ladies are on it down at the Red Casa and I'll be moving some of mine there as well for the big sale of odd little treasures.  Trust will be fun!

I'm proud of our POTUS for taking a reasonable stand on gun regulation though he could have done it a bit sooner *cough* than when the Bundy bunch takes over Oregon.  I figure those guys are pretty cold out there in the dark about now unless they've built a fire out of the rugged woods to stay warm.  I'm gonna' pack a little bag of snacks and stuff...maybe a blanket or two.  And yes, I'm still feeling the Bern.

So it is in honoring lives the way we do through rituals like memorial services.  When Noler died it was sudden and we were all just kind of hijacked by the situation.  That is where KK stepped in like the loving professional that she is and took total care of my family for about three months.  To me the reality of making arrangements is not a matter of "if" but "when."  Ahead of time is preferable than guessing.

We all have memories of friends and relatives and out-laws that make up the tapestry of life.  My once upon a time book was about stained glass and how those pieces fit together like little life bits to make a mosaic.  The comfort that I find in friends giving me a heads up when they know it's dark is something I can't describe and won't even try to.

Not my job ~

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