The Universe Tugs

Big day here. I was able to talk to Aunt Jo on the phone for a few precious minutes. She'll be turning one hundred and five in a few months. Did I tell you that she had lunch with Eleanore Roosevelt at the white house? 

In other news, I've had Lola staying with me this week. She's a fine, sweet dog with no ambition and a good sense of humor. She won't really be led on a leash. I have to plan a route in advance and gently pull her in the direction that gets us where we need to go and gets us back home again.

Somewhere around mid-walk this afternoon, it occurred to me that the universe treats me the same way. I've never taken orders well. The cosmos has to trick me into thinking that everything's my own idea. Seems to have worked up to now.

Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.

 

What If They Find Us Here?

 

Life's full of little lessons that I seem to learn over and over. There are only a couple of them that seem to matter much in the big picture. I seem to have spent the better part of a lifetime desperate for approval while working hard avoiding any measure of conformity. Assuring disapproval, you see.

Of course I'm far too lazy to check on a definition of eccentric, but I'll bet this fits in there somewhere. Almost a curmudgeon, I'm kept out of the club because I love almost everybody.

When I consider the time and effort that I have put into some vague notion of staying true to myself, I realize that I could have amounted to something by now. Cured something, earned something, won something, discovered something.

Lazy or stubborn?

Sticks and stones, buddy, sticks and stones.