Einstein: There are 2 ways to live your life. One is that nothing is a miracle. The other is that everything is a miracle.

I broke my wrist. The right one. Oh dear ~

(3 root systems: deep water, air, soil…) Years ago I recall being affected by the poet, Stephen Spender, sharing his poem in which he is witnessing his dad, advanced in age, meet a woman he hadn’t seen since they were teenagers. In the poem, Spender can feel that his father is still seeing this woman

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Blueberries. Blue berries. Translated through camera and internet, this is the blue you get. And yet, even if you were an oil painter, the blue pigment available now, the one labeled ultramarine, is not the genuine one that you might see in a painting by Vermeer. It is an industrial approximation of a pigment that

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So, where’s your hat, Nana? Cecilia is all snuggled in her cap with ears. Not me. But I’ll have one on soon enough. Not with ears. If only. We will head down to the dog park. Cecilia will see it coming. All the dogs running around. Bedlam. She’ll start saying: “woo-woo”. Short for woof-woof. And

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(nature’s art: “drawing” from pruning done by latest ice) On the highway, I passed a truck with a big sign on it: Find Your Beach. I loved it. On a drab day in February. So funny. I get home. Take the pup to the dog park. It was a miserable no good horrible weather day.

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So admittedly, this is an icy finger reaching out. But imagine it was warm. And reddish. Even loving. Tonight, Nika was asking me about whether I felt lonely living alone – or rather the subject came up in conversation. And yes, I do. But not often. And mainly in times of transition, such as after

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Red. I’m on red. Large red horse coming up. And why horse? Over and over. Horse after horse. You know, I’m not sure. I can tell you that I don’t know a time when I didn’t see horses. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t ride horses. Daily, in my childhood. And when I

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Wet snow. Then rain. Freezing rain. Power outages. I grew up in the south. I’m trying to recall if I ever experienced any time when the power went out in winter when I was a child. It was summer: lightening strikes that took out power then. Weather. Something that happens. And yet – don’t I

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When I’m not feeling great, the first thing I do is blame. Blame someone. Blame something. So easy to do. Today, the weather was – well, first beautiful: lovely white snow – and then, more snow. And more. Snow can be fun for those who love sports, or lousy for those who need to clean

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