Wednesday, April 24, 2013
This oldie is dedicated to the VIP in the Porshe Cayenne I shared the road with this morning----I met some really important people the other day. Well, I can’t actually say I met them, but I did watch them as they sailed by a bunch of us good citizens waiting our turn in one of those lane ends construction areas. You know...you see one of those lane ends up ahead signs and you pull over and wait your turn to go through like everybody else...except the really important people. I mean they must be really important...because they can’t wait in line like the rest of us. They go right to the front and force their way in. I figure they do this because they have much more important places to go and much more important people to see than the rest of us. Their time must be much more valuable than ours. Yep...that must be what it is. I mean...you don’t think they could just be arrogant, thoughtless and rude do you? Nooo...they can’t just be inconsiderate jerks...can they? They must be much more important than you and I. I must confess to being a very bad person though. Because when I finally do get to the front of the line and there’s a very important person trying to get in front of me...I don’t let ‘em in. Screw ‘em. Terrible aren’t I?
Monday, April 15, 2013
Here’s to tiny hands...curious hands...sticky hands. Hands whose tiny fingers poke and point and smoosh and stick their little selves in places we won’t dig into, so to speak, here. Hands that can cling to the tiniest piece of sacred blankie satin with great precision, while pouring what’s left of the Cheerios into, under and around the dog’s dish. Here’s to tiny hands that only want to color with permanent markers. They know the difference. They really do. Here’s to tiny hands that love Mommy polished nails and plastic tea cup parties. Here’s to tiny hands that love mud and trucks and drums made out of an empty coffee can and two old sticks. Here’s to tiny hands that love to wrap fancy feather boas around tiny necks and put Mom’s fancy heels on tiny feet and try to dance. Here’s to tiny hands...curious hands...sticky hands that I will try to hold in mine forever and have to let go of too soon. Please stay tiny just a bit longer...for Grandpa.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Hey Spring...this is what I’m talking about. C’mon...you can do it. Looks like you’re getting your act together and startin’ to kick a little ice around here. Keep it coming. Turn it up to warm and get those daffodil heads poking up through the tundra. And hey there Mr. Red, Red Robin…we are ready for some full time bobbin’ around here. Even though Old Man Winter really showed his age this time around, it’s still been too brown and gray and window closed and all cooped up for too long. We need you to start getting on with the greenery. C’mon Spring...you can do it. Flex your crocuses and give the cold, old geezer a good swift kick in his frozen pants. And tell him not to let the garden gate hit him in the icicles as he heads north. Turn up the thermostat Spring and let the T-shirts begin. It’s tulip time. C’mon...you can do it. Get the sap running and the grass growing. It’s time to smell the lilacs and slap some mosquitoes. C’mon spring you can do it. Get out there...put up your dukes...and give the North Wind the old what for. This is what I’m talking about. Don’t turn back…don’t give up now…don’t turn into some kind of…Pansy.