Time Travel
I had a late night of music and roadie work. I’m getting good at wrapping cables with a little thumb flip to keep them straight. Folded up mic stands. Picked up chairs. Picked up carpets. Loaded a big trailer. Hugged everyone goodbye and drove on home. Alone. It was a nice evening all the way around. Had a text message from a missing friend when I got to the house. That was nice.
Waiting on rain today. It might come. It might not. The clouds are low. The clouds are gray. Here’s hoping. The weather report says there’s a good chance. Even better tomorrow. We’ll see. There’s plenty of eggs. Let’s see how many chickens hatch. A deluge would be nice. Or a long steady rain. We need something to put moisture back into the ground. It sure is dry. I suspect this is our state in life now, however. The dry line is heading east, shifting way from the 100th meridian. I don’t think anyone believes me. Don’t suppose it matters.
I just noticed I’m drinking my morning coffee out of one of my late wife’s thermal mugs. It has a fleur de lis on it. It’s fading. Aren’t we all. I hardly recognize the guy who looks back at me in the mirror in the morning sometimes. Every day it’s a new sag. Sort of interesting watching the landscape of my face change as the wind and the waves work their magic. Notice I said, sort of. Oh, well there’s little to be done about it. Maybe a bit of cream to freshen things up. Best just to smile, keep the eyes bright, laugh a little, sing a song or two, and dance a step. In other words, keep moving and be happy.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale