Among others

Things I love:


Watching grandkids play base/softball


Laughing with my daughter


Hearing that AJ is walking

Sushi at Amarin


My new friend

Yarn for D's sweater

and 


ta da da tahhhhhhhhhhh


MATILDA

Look, Ma

It was dead, certainly dead.  Even before coffee, in the dawn light, I could see it was dead.  Cute, though.  The good news is that it was not in my bed.  Whichever cat was the trophy-bringer stopped outside our bedroom door.  


I left it for David to find.  :-)


Came downstairs to brew coffee and put together a lunch for him.


The dog was out.  


Not in his crate.


Which automatically means "check the breakfast room rug."


And sure enough.  That one I didn't leave for David.


Here's a picture of the poop perp... 

Fun and Games with the Pets...

Driving

I'm not quite sure what I'm witnessing, but my driving seems to fit my personality on certain days.


Like today.  I was driving to the Library to return some books and my driving was like the Bobbsey Twins.  I was just driving along, noticing how some folks had planted their gardens, and looking at the newly painted lines on the Holmes football field, and my neighbor's coral bells that are so huge and checking out the color of the Licking river and looking for a J because I'd decided to play the alphabet game on the way home and oh yeah there's a stop sign.  I mean ding.y.


Some days I'm honey badger, not giving a shit about anyone else on the road or what they're doing.  Honey badger don't care.  Honey badger just floors it.


And then there are days when I'm the perfect driver, courteous, but authoritative; obeying all the signals; wearing my seat belt (ahem); signalling lane changes, you know:  teutonic.


The best part of driving in Covington is getting out of my driveway.  It's a kind of harbinger as to how the rest of the drive will go.  There's a tree sticking out in our driveway and about the time you see the front of the house, you gotta hang a left or you hit the tree.  Honey badger days I'm outta there with no problems.  I even do it fast.  Today I was weaving all over the driveway.  My neighbors across the street were rolling on the floor, I'm sure.


I never know which driver personality I'll have on any given day but I think like honey badger best.

Vivaldi and stars

So, there's this piece.

As you can see, it's been around for a while, and played for a while, and had coffee cups resting on it for a .... no wait....


And 


there's a young man in our orchestra who is playing principal second violin.  He's maybe 18.  Out of high school.  Working a job that requires him to wear a special t-shirt (couldn't read it; didn't want to pry).  Plays up a storm, is musical.  


We're working on this piece (see above).  


Only...


There's this part

sciolte...haven't looked it up...only know it's played on three strings and it's fast....so


here's the deal


I have to approach it the way you do when you're looking at the stars and want to see something specific and you have to look to the side to see it?


It's kind of that way...You have to not think about it...just set the flat part of the bow on the strings and feel it....


And that set me to thinking beyond the stars thing and the Vivaldi thing.  There are more things in our lives that are like that.


Relationships that don't bear close scrutiny or they lose their brilliance.


Times with God when we want that larger view and no thinking.


Belief in our country's system of checks and balances.


My bank account.  hahaha.

Amnesia

So, D works one day a week with the homeless and mentally ill who are poor.  


The other day, he met C.  When C was a boy he was beaten up by a gang and suffered amnesia.  Daddy was an alcoholic and Mama was working to support everyone.  No one noticed much when C. didn't make it home at night.  And sometimes on those nights he'd get beaten up again.  The kids on the school bus would make him get off before his stop, knowing that he'd not be able to find his way home.


Here's the good news:  D was the first person to ever ask C about his situation.  C is 57 and had never ever talked to anyone about why he never goes out, and what he does all day and WHY.  No one ever asked him...in all those years. 


C cried and cried with D, he was so grateful to be able to talk about it.


C stays inside and prays all day.  He says he's not lonely because he's always with his Father.  He wants to move away from this city to another where he thinks he'll be treated better.  This too he had never told anyone.


If he doesn't move, he'll be back to talk with D some more.  And that's Good News too.