Time Flys

Sorry, bloggers! I've either been too busy to write or too tired lately.

We had company all last week end...Danny's mom and sister (pictured above on a recent London trip) came to see us from their home in the great state of Georgia. We had a delightful time shopping, eating out, and catching up on face to face conversation. They left just before lunch on Sunday. That afternoon, Danny and I took the dogs to the dog park. Then, from Sunday evening on, we were totally engrossed each night watching the nine hour mini series, Tin Man on Sci-Fi Channel. If you're not familiar with the film, it is an imaginative re working of The Wizard of Oz. Some similarities but more differences from the original. Engrossing though, and I recommend it.

The handyman was here all day Monday doing tile work in the kitchen and finished the cook top project yesterday. Yes, Virginia, there is a new cook top. In my kitchen. At last. 'Nuff renovation stuff until next year!

I'm getting ready for Christmas. The parties begin this week end. Whoo-hoo. If only I had something to wear. If only I hadn't sliced my left index finger on a butcher knife tonight and could use both hands to type! Oh well, gotta keep this short. Live long and prosper.

Here's a poem from Flights of Nancy. Just in time.


ON TIME, OR LATE

I used to believe that time, as a concept
was a tablet God carved deep in stone.
Immutable, unyielding,
unending, and fixed,
if only dear Einstein had known!

At the writings of Hawking I sit ever gawking,
his theories adrift in my head.
They make my brain ache. I throw down the book,
as I creep, oh so weary to bed.

When morning is nigh and I open my eye,
I am never quite sure of the date.
What day of the week, or month of the year?
Is it early in life, or too late?

One day can seem long, while a decade speeds past.
Perhaps it is futile to worry.
Yet if it would wait, I could catch it I think.
Why must time, be in, such a hurry!

I so envy the beasts in the field and the air,
who do move through their lives unaware,
of time’s ebbing and flowing,
and shrinking and growing.
They don’t see it, or feel it, or care!


December 2001