I am drawn to odd numbers. I was raised in an odd numbered house. I have an odd number of living children. Today must surely have something in store for an odd number fan such as myself.
It is also Veteran's Day. Hats off to all the women and men who fought for ideals and each other. I cannot pretend to understand what drives a person to risk life and limb because someone more powerful said to do so. But my heart swells and tears come when I see human beings willing to make such a sacrifice. And when I hear all the patriotic music written to honor and memorialize those sacrifices. I shake my head and look down in puzzlement and wonder, "Yeah but will the bank be open?" That definitely does not honor or memorialize anyone and it makes me a bit ashamed.
Is today the latest apocolypse day? Or is that tomorrow? "Community" did a pretty good satire on the end of the world predictors. Bad math or something. Personally my end will probably happen before February. And that's with the most optimistic math.
Last week had some strange but true moments. A huge blessing from a dear, far away friend. An empty gesture from an, apparently still angry sister. Dreams that pushed the envelope of weirdness: fingernails growing out of cheeks, tending manic-depressive teachers gone off meds, brothers with blankets. I wrote some of them down. Others were simply too scary.
Finally received my first home delivery from the library. A canvas bag filled to the brim with books and magazines of my own choosing. All mine for three glorious weeks. This is the one upside to being crippled.
An oddly odd day. I'm astonished that I made it this far. That is all.
It is also Veteran's Day. Hats off to all the women and men who fought for ideals and each other. I cannot pretend to understand what drives a person to risk life and limb because someone more powerful said to do so. But my heart swells and tears come when I see human beings willing to make such a sacrifice. And when I hear all the patriotic music written to honor and memorialize those sacrifices. I shake my head and look down in puzzlement and wonder, "Yeah but will the bank be open?" That definitely does not honor or memorialize anyone and it makes me a bit ashamed.
Is today the latest apocolypse day? Or is that tomorrow? "Community" did a pretty good satire on the end of the world predictors. Bad math or something. Personally my end will probably happen before February. And that's with the most optimistic math.
Last week had some strange but true moments. A huge blessing from a dear, far away friend. An empty gesture from an, apparently still angry sister. Dreams that pushed the envelope of weirdness: fingernails growing out of cheeks, tending manic-depressive teachers gone off meds, brothers with blankets. I wrote some of them down. Others were simply too scary.
Finally received my first home delivery from the library. A canvas bag filled to the brim with books and magazines of my own choosing. All mine for three glorious weeks. This is the one upside to being crippled.
An oddly odd day. I'm astonished that I made it this far. That is all.
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