Perfect or Good?

Don't let perfect become the enemy of Good.


Survive, daily prompt

There's a disco hit that I like to sing when the days are rough and last for weeks. Yep, it's that old heartbreak anthem "Survive." The song that girls of the 70s, 80s and 90s have memories of belting out, while in tears, during their high school tour of duty. It works just as well... Continue Reading →

Through My Window: Dinosaur Egg

I have a nice view of the natural gas tank from my window. When I was kid we called them "dinosaur eggs." Anyway, this little, above-ground capsule holds natural gas, which powers our furnace, water heater and kitchen stove/oven. It seems pretty vulnerable just sitting there in the open. You can see to the left... Continue Reading →

farm country

We moved to farm country, but remained urban brained. Bus exhaust and compact humanity drumming in our heads like rain.

Through My Window: Dogs and Distractions

Meet Alice and Bodhi! They are pretty certain they've treed a squirrel. There's a 50/50 chance they're right. They're enthusiasm far outweighs their expertise. Staring up at that pine canopy can keep them busy for hours. That's the herder* laser focus. I wish I was so easily occupied. Being easily distracted is a function of pain. Nothing holds your interest for long. You need multiple easy diversions and tasks. Short and sweet, for certain. Here are some things I do to try to occupy my mind and body when I'm in pain.

Qualm, a daily prompt

That nagging doubt, that qualm started peripherally. Just a buzzing, burning twinge felt in fingers and toes, over cheeks and scalps. A simple hesitation. So we breathe to settle our nerves. A sharp inhalation and those smoky, chokey tendrils twined chest deep became unease, disquiet. A foreboding. A surety of disaster just over the next... Continue Reading →

The Day the Music Died

This was the one, the boy who had killed song. Everywhere the loss of music had left behind a seething rage, so he would pay, unless she could protect him. Stars above, she hated her job. Three Line Tales: Week 67

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