Sunday, January 22, 2023

The Stars Are Still There




In case you've been wondering, all the stars are still in the sky. From my second floor landing, here in Dorset, I see them all, all that I remember, when I get up in the middle of the night. We've plastered those little glow-in-the dark ones all over the bedroom ceiling so that I don't have to get up.

Now I've lived like an adult and I've lived like a child. I remember when folks referred to having fun as a grownup as a "second childhood." 

If I tie a silk ribbon around my neck, it won't be to impress my boss or my banker. I eat cake for breakfast and play on the floor with dogs.

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






Thursday, January 12, 2023

Keeping Portland Weird



When I'm not worrying about freezing to death, I'm thinking that the roof might blow off at any minute. It rains pretty much every day, usually for the better part of the day. I love it.

We're sticking stars on the ceiling and we're drinking Ovaltine like there's no tomorrow.

The dogs are happy and the shed is up. I guess life is about perfect. I wake up and see her face every morning.