I saw a row of raindrops on the red twig of a dogwood today, absolute perfection in the seven drops—
I saw the neighbor's calico cat go scuttling from the yard when I was bringing my borrowed dog out back on a leash after her dinner, and as she lunged forward after the cat I had less than a second to center myself so as not to slip headlong down the steps, slippery with mossy scum. And all so quickly over, there was no time for my heart to skip to that point of panic when the dark December night suddenly seemed lurching into crashing and broken bones —
I heard this fragment on the evening news: "The campaign against Easy Bake Ovens —"
I spoke on the phone today with a friend in Hawaii and I could actually feel the sun in his voice —
(So many details of the past twelve hours of being awake on this 12/12/12)
Homemade pizza for dinner (albeit from the freezer) and I could taste the pinch of cinnamon I put in the red sauce —
Good news, although not entirely official, concerning my book-length manuscript. Not quite ready to pop the cork on the Champagne, but it's a'chillin'.