Bad Mojo

.... or is it bad Cojo....what is mojo anyways? I hate my computer today.

Really?

It's almost March, but today, Ash Wednesday, it snowed.... snowed this morning too... good 2". The mountains are not working their magic at keeping the flakes off us... Snow in the city is really unusual. This is 17th... lot's of friends live on this street. It was designed by the Olmstead brothers way back in the day. The street is lined with chestnut trees including a row in the median island. It has it's moments of beauty, but most memorable are moments of clean up.
This would be my house. I'm up in the attic with two sky lights. My room's pretty bright. It kinda stinks not to be able to see the street, but I can certainly hear it (esp on thurs-sat nights). Amongst the chaos of vocal life and sirens, I used to hear an occasional whistle from my friend H, which would be my cue to chaperone her dog walk through our dodgy Mary Poppins neighborhood. Her pup had to be put down this last fall, 11 months after her husband passed away. May they both rest in peace.

Baby Steps....

This morning, I woke from a dream. I know they are only interesting to the person that had it, but you have to understand that I seldom wake having remembered where my mind wondered aimlessly during REM. Perhaps this morning came from guilt... perhaps from continual heartfelt prayer... perhaps out of some fear, although I didn't wake afraid. I did however, toss and turn for what seemed like hours. Thrashing about usually does the trick for making the dream stop or at least change gears. Not this time. The just of it concerned my visiting friends in the south. I was at their house, rather their parents house, sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag, blocking the stairway leading down. Once things came into focus, I saw an open kitchen, dining room, living room plan... all painted hot flamingo pink with bright orange trim. If you knew the southerners I was thinking of, you'd laugh and know there's no way such urban tack would ever come near their precious vintage lace and teacups. Cabinet doors started opening, and kids began to pour out from every direction. I was looking for a my favorite little nephew, but his sisters only brought bits and pieces of him... They said, "Trinny can't come out to play right now, but you can hang on to this if you want to..." I woke, puzzled, scratched my head and tried to figure what it all meant. The only thing I can come up with a backpack of guilt for not having updated my blog for over a year as a sweet friend gently reminded me. I don't know why it's so difficult... maybe I don't think my life is that interesting... maybe I want it to be such a sweet layout... shrugging off that no one reads it anyways (which was entirely the point so I could truly voice my thoughts without revealing my darkness within to my friends) ... perhaps a combination of these and more excuses... but baby steps. It's always been a challenge for me to journal, but baby steps right? If a loving wife and mother of five (not counting the husband) can keep me informed with pictures & updates, certainly I can jot a note now and then. I will of course have to talk more about the past since the future is unknown at this point...

Irony

This made me smile...

"The trouble with weather forecasting is that it's right too often for us to ignore it and wrong too often for us to rely on it." Patrick Young

Time

I've not forgotten about you. It may seem like it, because I don't tell you often enough... but you are here with me.....(yes Y O U)