Our Bodies, Our Suits ...by Marni
" With each year, the female body cultivates its own dialect,
distinct from the more wide-band meet-me/mate-me signals broadcast by
the young and flawless body. "
Well Spent...by Mark Dickey
I do not want to spend the last days of my life, whenever
they may arrive, wishing I had done more...seen more....I want to smile
and say, "Hell, I'm full...."
Aging Gracefully ...by Carolyn
Graceful? Not a chance. Alive? Till I die.
MY WRITE ...blogging on
Here I am, now 133 days post fusion ...and whenever I
mention something about putting the tea on, the houseboy says, “The
plane has landed.”
Plus Twenty-Eight July
The houseboy returns to serve dinner and it occurs to me that my
life resembles nothing quite so much as a VERY long plane ride.
Minus Three June
I’ll never run again, and frankly, I'm grateful.
Too many bad memories of the hairy-legged phys-ed teacher ordering one
more lap,. “Let’s gooooooo, moooooooove it.”
the Rest of My Life October
I was doing the world a favour when I traipsed around the Serengetti.
From the Hammock August
“If he settles, it’s over. Money is
the last connection he has to her, the only subject he knows will still
get her attention. The only way to maintain his connection to her. It’s
not about money.”
A place to collect