If I am repaired, can we meet again for the first time, in all of the places I have feared to go, and then, again, in all of the places I will have forgotten, if I am repaired?



SC



_____________________________






Tuesday, December 30, 2014


I miss your skin...

                                          
                                                               Those long mornings.

                                                                           Those long weekends.

               I know. I know.

                                We have children now...
                               
                                     Complications.


                                    Joyous complications.

                                                                       But I do.
                                                                                    
                                                                                    I do.






Friday, December 26, 2014

Briefly thereafter...



I had the greatest Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, ever. And I want so much to tell you all about it, but I don’t have the time (and who would, really?), to properly expound on the delights of oyster stew in yard-sale dutch ovens, tall, skinny trees and piles of presents, each and every one just perfectly chosen, lox and bagels and Truffulas, both pink and purple, holding hands here and there and everywhere; kids, rambunctious pups, the search for Tina (found where we both thought we looked), and love, love, love, love, until I nearly burst with happiness, and did, slightly, once, because, like I said, it was just that kind of Christmas.

I hope yours was too.  

           

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Twice as Nice


It’s wonderful enough to be put to sleep by the sound of rain and distant thunder percolating from speakers, but doubly wonderful to wake to both the manufactured rain and the patter of the real deal at your windowpanes. 



Monday, December 8, 2014

On Being a Late Night Snack



I think Baker has a girlfriend, or boyfriend, I’m not entirely sure which way he swings. 

          But that’s not my point. My point is that he’s out all night, and he’s white, mostly, an easily spottable tidbit for Wile E. Coyote and friends to devour, and it was pursuing similar amorous adventures that all of my other boy cats exhausted their nine lives. 

          He’s been warned, but such are the ways of young men.