I woke up this morning, melancholy. I dreamt of going to Dad’s funeral. Again. And as with all dreams, there were many nonsensical moments, weird outfits, and unexpected people showing up. And somewhere, this song came back to me from the far reaches of my memory. Prayer, Lizzie West “Do not stand at my grave and weep I am [...] Full story...
About a month ago I woke up in a most unusual position. (Don’t be nasty, Syd.) My arms were crossed very, very tightly across my chest.
So, back in 1998 when I lived in Atlanta I somehow scrounged enough money to buy a Crafter acoustic electric guitar.
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
My mother called at 7am PST today. I knew what she was going to say before I picked up the phone.
“Hi Mom,” I said.
Don’t be nasty. (Syd, I’m looking at you.)
I had a dream last night that Bayou and I were shopping for clothes because we lost weight.
The last few years I’ve had these occasional bouts of “Should I have’s”, mainly with regards to whether I should have gone to college right after high school.
I’ve been reading a fantastically interesting book called “The Code Book: The Science of Secrecy from Ancient Egypt to Quantum Cryptography” by Simon Singh.
My sleep patterns were good and steady, until this past March when Dad died.
I sleep, but I don’t feel rested.
…because I made my first pot roast of the season last night.
If you’d like to recreate this yummy-ness, here’s the recipe:
Ingredients
1 eye of round roast
1 bag of white or red new potatoes
1 bag of baby carrots
2 beef bullion cubes
1/2 to 1 white or yellow onion
Kitchen Bouquet
Montreal Steak Seasoning
2 Bay leaves
I do this in the [.
Have your say - be the first to comment
Login