Wordjanitor Strikes Again

(I'm typing this as my dog is sleeping on my right foot, dreaming, twitching, and barking in his sleep. ) So, there was this tree. And it needed pruning. Not a very big tree, really. But apparently big enough. And I have some killer branch chompers. So I got into the tree. And well, kinda got out of the tree. Abruptly. And since I'd already done some definite damage to the tree before gravity nudged me onto the ground, I landed somewhat tangled in some branches. While flat on the ground, staring at the tree that ousted me and doing the mandatory self-assessment that usually follows such a test of gravity, @ walks over and looks down at me, very seriously. @: Mama, get up. We still have work to do. Me: Why don't we go inside and watch TV for awhile. @: No Mama, we're not done working. Me: Well, I need a little break to ice my leg. @: Well OK, but we're not finished working. Junior Taskmaster, at your service. I had a pretty good bruise on my foot and figured I'd

I belong to a very exclusive club. It's club no one ever wants to join. I'm part of an an online group for parents who have lost infants. I met a woman named Lisa through e-mail yesterday. She recently had preemie twins and her beautiful little girl passed away. I wrote this right before @ and N's second birthday. For Nobie In my mind, you are six years old Though if you were here, you would be only two I see you every day in my heart You are in a meadow, at a fence And you are happy And you are beautiful I probably picture you as six Because I think you would be safe That you would be happy That you would be past the pain And you would understand That we are not with you, but you are part of us I imagine that my uncle guides you He shows you how to watch us And answers your every question Though there is no one to answer mine He teaches you and shows you how to find us To watch us, to know us from afar You are connected To everyone I’ve loved And you are connected, to me I