When happiness makes its rounds
back to me again, I lean into it.
I don’t mean marginally happy.
I mean the kind of joy that stops
you in your tracks and halts
any action that was moments
ago needed, for one thing, or another.
And there you stand, sit, or lay,
looking at a blade of grass with
the sun shinning and the wind
blowing just enough to whisper
your name as you tilt your head
in an attempt to catch the message.
You decide lol. I’m not sure how to classify this. I think I should do this to him forever! Ha. 😀
“I woke up in a bedroom not mine.”
buahha…Megan read that and said, “It sounds like you were in a bedroom you shouldn’t have been in.”
Let me clarify, for anyone who may have had a, WTH moment of thought, concerning this line. A bedroom not mine, was actually, our spare bedroom. I was so clogged up from the cold that I kept Megan awake the previous night. So! After the Celtics lost, out of consideration for Megan’s sleeping needs, I slept in the spare bedroom where I could cough all night without disturbing Megan 🙂 There you have it. I just like to play with words and ‘I slept in a bedroom not my own’ was much more entertaining for me to write rather than a standard line of blobityblip.
I hope everyone is ready for the weekend!
Look at Gavin (3.5 year old) kicking the hell out of this 8 and up 200 piece Dino puzzle!
I’m not saying he’s wicked smart. Just that I think he’s wicked smart.
Gavin is easy to be happy about. 🙂
I like life. I had beers while moving all of the storage unit items from the garage to the basement and bonus room above the garage. I’ve never had a garage. Not one of my own. It’s going to snow tomorrow and I think my truck wants to be inside. I’m not positive because the truck doesn’t actually speak, or think, but I do think it’s possible it would rather be inside.
I enjoyed standing in our garage while listening to the plow truck last night. I think he was drinking beer too. Now though, this very moment, I’m sitting in my office looking out of the window at a very grey-dusty looking morning sky. The storm has yet to start. I still don’t know what the plow truck was plowing.
My coffee is hot and smells exactly how I had hoped it would. All I will do now is finish typing these last few words and settle into the rest of something.
I hope your day treats you well,
Let me be wherever the fuck I am and let my heart fight with the rest.
I can’t write with a cat in the room. I don’t know how Hemingway did. I like knowing that I don’t need to know everything. I’m not the man who implies to know something when I don’t. I’d much rather say, “I don’t know.” I don’t see the point of lying in the field of knowing. Either I know, or I don’t, the rest is a game. I don’t play those types of games. And, my son just woke up. I can hear him playing in his room. He’s talking to a stuffed animal. Writing time is up! I have a present for him downstairs and I want to watch him open it. Seeing my son and wife happy makes me happy and I know how to do that.
Yesterday evening I taped trees
The cement footings are poured and the build is very much under way
Our contractor left tape for us to use for wrapping around trees
to indicate to the excavation crew which to remove
I used the entire roll
In all 39 trees will be gone
And as soon as I have more tape
More trees will be gone
Some might become angry reading this
I’m fine with that
The entire region was once completely cleared
Every Single Tree
Now the forest is thick and clustered
It needs to be thinned
So, I’ll drag my beer along
Tape a few more treees
And continue being me-
While on the land I listened
to the birds play and the insects buzz
The wind picked up slightly
I leaned against my truck
opened a beer
and watched the clouds move
Yes. This is our build.
I’ve watched restrictions of success cripple people. And couples. Standards ripped them apart. They are left with .5 children and 50% parenting access. All for the glass ceiling. I hope to never forget it’s the simple things that matter most. Being there to see Gavin sit on Megan’s lap while watching a movie. Getting up early to make coffee. Waiting to hear my two hearts come down stairs. “Daddy!” His feet patter at me.
“Morning, Honey.” Her long dark hair is a ruffled mess and it’s incredibly attractive.
It’s the simple things. It really doesn’t take much to make me happy. It never has.
I hope everyone has a good day.
My brother called a month ago to ask if I’d like to be his best man. This will be the fourth time I will be the best man in a wedding. I’m not sure how this keeps happening.
My younger brother has always been my soft spot. He was my saving grace.
He asked if I would do an old-fashioned best man’s speech.
He said, “With how you are with your words I’d like to hear what you have to say. Just please include the memory when I threw the rock through your window at 3 AM because I locked my keys inside.” He was outside drunk. Alone. Happy.
While my brother was talking about the wedding I tried to stay in the moment. I’ll admit I did drift.
With everything that’s happened in the past few months, including nearly losing my wife due to an internal rupture, and internal bleeding, I drifted. I started to imagine myself at my brother’s wedding. Me going into the old systematic fold that I’ve always used when I’m around many people. No one knows. People will tell me it’s great to see me and I’ll think something along the lines of, ‘We gain too much knowledge and we die.’ I’ll shake their hand and observe how much time I think they might have left. Some people seem to have a harder time absorbing knowledge than others. They’ll ask me a direct question and I’ll answer them very quickly. And we’ll head to the bar.