Random happiness

You know what I like about having a car? When I come back from walking into town and I see the car in the driveway, it looks like I am already home.

Today the mourning doves were singing.

Some children were climbing in the receding snow and I overheard them say that they were playing that they were at the North Pole and that they were “still trying to get to Santa’s house.”

I am ahead with the blog, behind on the kid’s book, and right on time with the WWII letter. I am filled with so many ideas. It’s like learning to put ones toys away.

Things need places.
Ideas need places.

I am still learning what goes where. Options are my paper journal, a letter, the blog, a facebook status, an email, the kid’s book, a new poem, a work of fiction, memoir, or nowhere. Much of what I come up with ends up on scraps of paper that end up in the recycling bin or floating about the desks and bookshelves like ghosts. This is the habit I am trying to break. I am trying to learn to put all my toys back where they belong.

In my mind I write a letter to my friend Kyle who has been working in dangerous regions of the Middle East. We have been friends a long time. “Dear Kyle, you are my gun and god go-to guy. This year I would like more of both in my life. When will I see you again?”

Holy Smokes. Every time I turn around it’s later in the day. Time to make apple crisp. The one from the Fannie Farmer cookbook. My sister’s favorite. Double the topping she says.

My lover calls from the road and for one minute and twenty seconds we share the beautiful sound of church bells.