Sometimes my writing-Juju runs a little dry. Not a writer's block, per se. Hell, give me a topic and I'll write on it. I have written about shit as a challenge. And it was not my worst post.
I wonder what my worst post was. Perhaps this will be it.
But back to the writing-Juju. What IS Juju? Power. Magic. Not unrelated to Mojo in my opinion.
What do I know? I'm just a white girl sangin' the blues.
Only I have no blues to talk about today. It's been a good day. A windy day. A day of gifts received. A day of gifts recognized.
The kind of day that that when shit happens, you wish you could have in its simple yet amazing pleasure.
Here is the joy of getting older: you recognize these good days for what they are. A day where nothing at all bad happens and a day when you get to spend time with people whom you love. A day where you get e-mails from a friend of forty years. A day when you can say to the one you love- we have a beautiful house and that one you love knows that this is code for we have a beautiful life. A day where you can discuss religion and politics and not get angry but just be happy to be able to do it with someone who is intelligent and that you respect. A day where a two-year old gets his first big-boy bed. A day where someone walks in your kitchen door with a bottle of vodka and you hug her so hard to yourself and she hugs you back that strongly. A day where you go to the library and walk out with a fortune in books, all for free.
A day where you can go to a grocery store and pay for the food you want to eat.
That kind of day.
And I would trade it for a hundred days of writing-Juju. Or Mojo.
But I'll still write about it. I'll still say this is how it is sometimes.
And so I have.