Dylan Thomas

Poetry is what in a poem makes you laugh, cry, prickle, be silent, makes your toenails twinkle, makes you want to do this or that or nothing, makes you know that you are alone in the unknown world, that you bliss and suffering is forever shared and forever all your own. - Dylan Thomas

Saturday, December 8, 2007

Sick and Crabby!

My hip hurts and my throat is sore now just when I quit coughing so much. Tish is like a tiger when I dress her and that throws my body into wierd positions as I defect the blows and try and aim a limb into a sleeve or a thrashing leg into a pair of tights. My oh my! I have wrapped and shopped with Suzanne, Demetrius and Tish for craft items to go on the kid tree. She wants me to do crafts with Metrie as Karah and her Gingerbread house have gone to Peggy's place to construct. I wrapped with him and sang nursery rhymes as rap while I wrapped for me. It was fun but I needed a break and the kid didn't arrive home til 11:30 PM and he never really was with his mom as she blew him off for a party and he just stayed at Grannies. I feel so bad for him. He has to be right all the time to be happy and he desperately wants to be secure and loved in a home where he is front and center. I pray God will help him find a godly man to emulate and a mom to teach him manners and how to be helpful. Fiddle sticks and bones it has little chance of happening. so you readers out there please pray as we need a miracle big enough for this little black boy's need. I care!

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