Saturday, September 7, 2013


There are days when I dive into the pool of this journal and swim laps of thoughts back and forth, back and forth -- the end of the swim feels good, refreshing, smooth. Then there are mornings like this when I want to escape my own thoughts and not think or write, but then where do the worried, scared little tendrils of fear and anger go if not onto confessional page? I was headed for the airing of negative self centered, sorrowful thinking right here under the old oak tree, when my neighbor, Jeff, standing at the fence that separates our backyards said, "I have a gift for you." Wait! I thought -- I am full of stress and meanness and anger and fear this morning . . . "I wanted to say thanks for taking care of the cats last weekend" -- Nuts on Clark! -- the mixed kind with caramel, cheese and plain popcorn -- a delightful combination that people stand in line for wherever there's a Clark's store in Chicago. So, I poured my second cup of coffee and wrote of a neighbor giving me famous popcorn at 7:30 Saturday morning -- giving me gratitude and quiet kindness and the reminder that the workday of the workweek should be left where it belongs -- far away from a cool Saturday morning as the sky turns gold; as the September light spreads within the haze of clouds beginning to cover the entire sky with light --

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