The Story Goes On

I am off to begin another chapter of that soap opera/adventure which I call my life.

The more I anticipate quiet and 'normalcy', the more I seem to end up with new beginnings and endless possibilities. Both are nice, but I'm looking for the balance between the two - heavy on the 'normalcy', please.

My computer will be dismantled in approximately ten minutes. Then stowed in my Ford Explorer which will not have a trailer attached to it, much as I tried, because apparently no one wishes to rent trailers to Explorers - there seems to be a tendency for the bumpers to fall off during transport. Huh.

Hopefully, in just a week or two, I will be back on line as a Minnesotan. Well, I'll never REALLY be a Minnesotan. But I'm sure I'll sportingly try saying "Ufta" and "ya" with the best of them. I will not, however, ever wittingly support the Vikings or the Twins. Sorry, folks, just can't do it.

If you'd like to keep in touch with me, my cell phone number is still the same and I'm keeping the Maine area code for a while - I'm only 4 months into my frickin' two year contract! Plus, that in-network, phone to phone thing is well worth the effort.

Thanks to all the guardian angels out there. In fact, all REAL guardian angels should feel free to ride wing on my journey. Oh, except the cat carrier will be there...sorry, guys, you get the back seat next to the sticky fingers and talking Blue doll.

Fly Away

All my bags are [almost] packed
I'm ready [almost] to go
I'm thinking about
mopping the floor
I hate to leave it looking like it does

But the day is coming, Saturday - ish
To be unkind
I have no wish
So please be kind to those who need it most.

So kiss me [no tongues]
and smile for me [yeah, cuz that's a realistic request]
please don't say you'll wait for me
I gotta get that gas while it's still cheap

Ain't leaving on a jet plane
I can't say how long a drive I'll take
Oh, babe, I hate to go.

Steal Away

...yes, it is possible to use Emily Dickinson - just as white New England as you can get - as code poetry.

EMANCIPATION.

No rack can torture me,
My soul's at liberty
Behind this mortal bone
There knits a bolder one

You cannot prick with saw,
Nor rend with scymitar.
Two bodies therefore be;
Bind one, and one will flee.

The eagle of his nest
No easier divest
And gain the sky,
Than mayest thou,

Except thyself may be
Thine enemy;
Captivity is consciousness,
So's liberty.