If you had asked her forty years ago, “Can you imagine that someday you’ll be walking a beach in Alaska, on summer solstice, carrying dog poop, fishing line, and an empty can of Miller High Life inside a discarded plastic grocery bag?”
Well.
Sometimes, dreams come true
Mercifully cooler today. We slept together in the same bed! I felt like I had to learn everything all over again.
After a restful night of sleep we awoke, had coffee together on the deck — a soft boiled egg and muffin (me) — and then we rolled up our sleeves and completed laying the new floor in the guest house.
Supposed to be in the seventies again next week, near eighty in Anchorage.
…
The tragedy in Charleston. It doesn’t seem right to me to say nothing about it. Which might be interpreted by some as a kind of acquiescence, that tragedies like this will continue to happen from time to time and there’s really nothing more politicians can do about it. On the other hand, it peeves me to see the mainstream media thrust the mic in the face of every politician to goad them into saying something about it, and then grade the responses by depth of grief, or imbecility. For what purpose?
We live in a dangerous world. I wish it weren’t so. But it is. Everyday and everywhere be vigilant, careful, and selective of who you trust. What else can any one person do?