Day number (cough achoo hiccup gad it must be ten by now) of gratutudiana...for family and friends and their thoughts and their eventual dogs and cats and horses and their kids imagined or real and their volcanoes and cranked up cars and opinions and their recipes and grace notes of music guitar-tuba-piano-french horn-flute and their delectable stories, their mysterious and brave moms and dads and shyly bold kids and cousins and neices and nephews and the nooks galore of gramps and grannies where it all came from all the precious homemade donuts and shots by the nurse and countkess donations into the mist and the hopes and devotions that must and the suddens of humor that may, all the spiritual flips and political frustratas and pinatas of laughter at pratfalls and sensuous satires and kicks and curious attentions to glorious details in loves and mountain vistas and and and art collages, offices and data entry and daydreamed hills and swinging bridge books and flaunting rivers, all the mad flowers and vegetables that grow each day and furl among the maze of human creative wow-what-just-happened out there experience in-here, and yonder, even unto the wild hedges, where both the goose and the bluebird wait, to honk or sing, as it were, to the peace at the end of the day, in the thankful zone, where even the run on sentences finally rest and the kitchen is now closed. Ole! and Tudo bem! to all you artists of life....
Posted on: Mon, 01 Sep 2014 20:23:31 +0000
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