Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Another Untitled

There are robins mobbing the yard. Their voices rise and fall and they lift and settle on limbs of pecan trees.
It is going to be one of those days where I have to remember to do everything one step at a time, staying mindful of where each foot is placed and not worrying about the next footfall until it is time to place it.

I am woman, wife, daughter, mother, grandmother.

Why did I think it would be such a great idea to add Romance Book Publisher Character to the mix?

Well I did.

And here we are. This step, that one.

Robins take flight suddenly and chorus in another place. All they have is feathers, voices, and hunger for flight.

I take note.


  1. deep breath...it's be brilliant...fly like a robin!!

  2. !!! Open your wings and fly a little higher! Can't wait for details.

  3. You can't go wrong watching the robins.

  4. Me, too. One foot in front of the other and mindful. I'm mindful of my maybe-sore-throat and tingling nose, too, though -- no birds here.

  5. I gain no serenity from the damn robins. They eat all the wild cherry seeds and cover the cars, house, windows, everything, in big chunky, purple, poop plops.
    It's about this time of year that I simultaneously plan to cut down all the trees and investigate herbs for a robin stew.
    I am man, poop cleaner, curmudgeon.

  6. It's all we can do...

    sending wishes for peace

  7. Yes, one moment at a time, one hour at a time, one step at a time.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.