"No one suspects the days to be gods." --Emerson
Good Mourning Widows! Joy to you and me.
The sun shines brightly 20 miles north from where the World Trade Center used to be. Izzy snores loudly at my feet. And my nimble naked fingers tippy-tap a laptop keyboard as I wildly work at catching up with writing deadlines.
It's been a busy exhausting exhilerating week -- balancing full time job, chauffering Izzy to doggy day care daily, dancing fox trot, samba, rhumba weekly, and doing my passion--writing -- happily.
Last night I collapsed in bed after a full day of research reading and writing listening to the sounds of light rain pelting the window. This morning I awakened to a brand new day. All the ice and snow is melted. I see green grass. Blue sky. ...And I had no idea what the heck time it was.
The man who did the change-the-time-ahead-thing is well, you know, and in my haste to cuddle my feather comforter, I forgot to turn the clocks ahead.
It's a good thing there are no phones in heaven.
Local weatherman predicts temperatures to rise to mid 50s today. Looks like we'll *Izzy and me* be heading to the beach for a stroll on the boardwalk. Ahhh, a slice of heaven.
Anyway, it's time to turn on my heartlight. Time to get moving.
Here's to mourning joy!
Have a joy-filled day Widows. And remember we're not alone.