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As I sit here trying to think of something significant to write about I am listening to my radio, reliving the still powerful emotions I once felt long ago, hearing a young Rickie Nelson singing Poor Little Fool -- and wondering why I am still hanging around, why I continue on...
Yes, I know such thoughts are deemed negative, and unproductive. Yet the thoughts are there, unbidden of course, but in existence none the less.
Probably better kept unblogged, though. Kept to one's self.
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Tucson's Santa Catalina Mountains
(Walking North on Soldier Trail)
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The Pig
It was the first of May
A lovely warm spring day
I was strolling down the street in drunken pride,
But my knees were all a-flutter,
And I landed in the gutter
And a pig came up and lay down by my side.
Yes, I lay there in the gutter
Thinking thoughts I could not utter
When a lady passing by did softly say
'You can tell a man who boozes
By the company he chooses' --
And the pig got up and slowly walked away.
--Anonymous
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I just had some breakfast. Some fresh baked biscuits and a small bowl of blueberries and mixed tropical fruit.
And now I am feeling much better.
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