There's not enough time in my day. That's an old statement! I would love to enjoy many hours sitting and contemplating thoughts, ideas, memories, then settle down with a hot cup of tea and a lemon cookie and write about them. That is my ultimate fantasy!
"The world is too much with us." Write back and tell me what poet wrote that line. It'll be a trivia contest.
"Ah love, let us be true to one another..." Who wrote that line?
I'm getting ready to finally write that novel I've been holding within me and bursting at the seems with. In the process, I'm steeping myself in words and poems. Opening up to some important memories. Not sure where I'll begin. Perhaps at the beginning. Maybe somewhere in the middle.
Food For Thought:
I'm missing Dolores. I'm wandering around downstairs in her apartment staring at her things. She's not there. It's so quiet. I look in her refrigerator, it's empty. So is my heart. I fill myself with food...hoping to fill the void that she left when she passed away. It's not working.
As my cousin Lynette so aptly put today, "Grief is so hard."
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