Sunday, November 18, 2012

The Plane Was On Time

The man got home and the sun came out.
Do we create our own reality?
Or perhaps sometimes a coincidence is merely a coincidence.

Whatever. I sure am glad he's back.

Sunday morning, pancakes for breakfast, laundry running, dogs lying around drowsing in the sun, let-the-chickens-out, a brown and a blue egg in the nest. Light puddling everywhere and things get sorted out, set right, hearts let light in again, glimmer of hope that all will be right again, chase that black dog off into the night, scoot, dog, out of my sight.

I feel like I can open my eyes again.

I'm so glad to have him back. I think he's happy to be home.

It works out.

Good morning, y'all.

Good morning.


  1. Tell that big handsome husband of yours welcome home.

  2. What a nice post to read. I can feel your lightness.

  3. Aha....see...he grew the beard back for you.

  4. This comment has been removed by the author.

  5. Watch it, girl! You're joy is showing.

  6. Nice. Glad that he is home and kicked that dog to the curb.

  7. Hello, Mr Moon. You were missed. Enjoy those pancakes.

    XXX Beth from here

  8. It is good when the parts come together.

  9. Ah, Hooray! For on time planes, and husbands who come home and for chickens who lay eggs.

  10. Yay! I'm glad life has returned to normal (whatever that is)!


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.