I think one of the cats just banged on my door, how odd.
Miss Margot has learned to knock on my door. I believe she does this by snagging the light catcher I stapled to the bottom of the bedroom door and rhythmically tugging on it, resulting in a light, professional tap so out of character for her that you could understand my difficulty in grasping that it was she who was the author of the noise.
I figured for sure Buster, and started when I saw that it was her.
I’m going over to Planet Bachelor to feed cats over the next couple of days, not today, but Christmas etc.
The schedule changed and I don’t have to work Christmas night any more.
I saw Alex yesterday and Katie, and then I WAS SO TIRED at 10:30 am I felt my feet get saggy from exhaustion and I just knew I had to lie down. Tom and Peggy brought Christmas cookies the day before that but they are all gone now as of yesterday morning. Dang but they was so much of what I like eatin’.
I am sore and frightened for the world and writing seemeth a long wayeth away.
My characters aren’t calling. They’re having fun
and getting into trouble behind my back.
They have wandered into stories they won’t share.
Returning to my one true story
I will find my lover, he’ll be waiting there.
Will you let me fill my cup, I won’t take all
your precious time up
but I know the roots won’t grow and
I can’t even hold a stick up
in this dry ground
burnt and fry ground
the moving true north it has been found
equinoxes do not match the poles (the magnetic poles)
and we can feel our very souls
bent and twining t’ward each other
all of time just a rhyme
as we find our way toward each other
