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, March 27, 2010

Who Delivers on Saturday? U.S. Postal Service that's Who!

She has arrived. The big yellow/brown envelope all padded with bubble inside was leaned against the door while I was baking and making. I brought her in carefully and tended the fires, made the supper and found the swagcode. Dish water is run and hot so I cannot open her yet. I am savoring the opening and will do it later when the dishes are done. When Jack is in bed and I am alone with my music and my thoughts. I will show him tomorrow but he doesn't much care for the things I adore. He is polite and nods but soon is engaged about a thought of his own. I think I am a mystery to him, sometimes a painful one and other times quite a character that he loves dearly.

So 'Believe' is waiting for me and I am going to do the dishes now. I made them while enjoying my kitchen creatively. I made cookies from my childhood called "Blame Good Cookies"!  Memories can be a wonderful thing and I am still making them! I will take pictures when 'Believe' is placed where she will be happy and I will be satisfied!

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