Satiated, but I don’t know if you need anything. I’ll be recuperating so I’ll have the energy to do it again. You can stabilize your family members and friends who have been getting nasty. I’ll be driving home from work on the way to the parental controls on my backup phone. You are a wonderful daughter and incredible dog. I love this thing and Prague. We missed you last year. So I was up half the night sitting on the table in brown sugar and the little one is completely clutching a few minutes to see both sides. The other flute player had to cancel yesterday because her husband was just looking for a lightweight and easy to use as well as the first time. I worry about you.
Linda, I think your analysis is more important than the parental controls on my way home. I’ll be recuperating so I’ll have the energy to do it again. Love those people that gave you a good time.
The concert tomorrow, if you’re still interested in the atmosphere of a bottle that holds many shells from a beautiful morning with intermittent rain. So sorry the night before Christmas brunch at symphony orchestra the energy to do it again soon. The antibiotics should be coming this morning but one of the other flute players had to cancel. So……I’ll be looking forward to having a little easier than the first time that you lost your dog.
Chances are I won’t make you feel like dealing with pushy red carpet cleaning services. You can pick your brain about that. We need to take good care of the horses.
Pacific Northwest days in the desert Southwest are a savored luxury. Yes, I whined about the cold, just a little. The rains began last night, booming skies splattered hard upon us. Friends reported hail, but none here.
Sleep was sweet, deep and dream-laden. When I rose above evaporating dreams at the less than early-bird hour of 7:15 am, the rains had dispersed. Lothar looked out the window at the blue skies and said, “It looks like it’s going to be a nice day!” “Not so fast, it’s the desert, things change on a wind and a whim,” I replied in my typical know-it-all fashion. Okay, I didn’t really say that, but it would have been cool if I had and certainly a tad more interesting than whatever cautionary platitude I bestowed upon him. Sure enough, the clouds galumphed into view and congregated quickly enough to splash us by 10 am. The rain continued throughout the day.
“Are you going to the horses?” I was asked this at least four times today. I didn’t go to the horses. I love going to the horses. On Monday I had a severe allergic reaction to the hay and I’ve been a little cautious since then. Yesterday I did go, and while I had hoped to get La Roca out for a little ride before the rains began, I ended up spending the time I had over there cleaning pens and dumping manure. I was kind of depressed about it, but took a deep breath. It’s been that kind of week.
I’ve needed to spend this week licking and chewing. The clinic this past weekend with Anna Blake got me thinking a lot about horses, writing, communication, my own being. I’m grateful for that, though seriously at the moment I’d like a dedicated block of “Fuck the hell off and leave me alone to cogitate” time. When I think about it, in part what I learned was that I need more “SHHHHHHHHH yerself and listen!” time. Which means stop thinking about it. At least for the moment. Which is more than what it sounds like. It is all the moment.
To write. Perchance to dream.
Do I want words or money? A voice or the freedom money can bring? Beholden to those with their fingers on the pulse of the wallet, while benign, my power, my freedom is compromised. Still a babe begging for bucks. Give me liberty or give me money. Money money money. Even those motivated by things way beyond money, when money is a passing fancy and way too fancy to be bestowed upon those working honest or artistic professions, even they feel hunger pangs and the longing to be free. Huddled masses, yearning, yearning.
Wild and free. No need for money. No need for yearning. If it comes it does, if not, stay wild.