There’s always one trouble-maker. This one is mine.
Traditionally, we take down all of our holiday decorations before mid-night on New Year’s Eve. Because we party hard out here. It’s lucky, or good karma, or superstition. I do like the feeling of clearing away the remnants of the old year before the new one starts. Take out the trash, the recycling, do the laundry and leave behind everything we don’t need to bring forward.
She was born Theodora Putnam Downing; her family instantly named her Bimby. She loved her friends and her family fiercely and delightedly–but not, ever on the phone. Talking with Bimby on the phone went pretty much like this.
“Hello? Oh, it’s good of you to call. I’ll call you next time. Bye.”
I’m really very sorry, Sunday. I had planned to get up and meet you. But, now I have this Dacshund sleeping on my arm. Clearly, I’m not supposed to leave the couch or change from my pajamas and robe. Also, my coffee is getting cold and the remote is out of reach.
I could refill my coffee and grab the remote on the way back. But no. No, I have priories. The Weiner Dog is comfy and snoring gently on my elbow. The coffee is cooling, the TV is dark, and the dog dreams on.
Because, I’ve got priorities. Priorities and no coffee. Send help.
There’s a line. There’s always a line. This particular, awkward, line is the one between daydreaming and over-thinking.
Too often, I’m caught staring off into space, eyes unfocused mind focused deeply in some murky inner territory. This can happen while standing in line, or hanging around in one waiting room or another, or in conversation when something you’ve said triggers some intriguing image. Continue reading “Dancing On the Line”