Poor BarOb.  Nobody will remember his little jaunt to New Orleans because of balloon boy.

*edited to add: I don’t always have to be eloquent.*

Love

Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the
perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands;
how did your lips feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks,
the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten
your eyes.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of
you. I live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
do me irreparable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every
window.
Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because
of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting
stars, falling objects.

Pablo Neruda

for
Christmas.
fresh starts.
finding faith.
family.
memories.
learning from mistakes.
independence.
watching young minds and hearts grow.
hope. for me and others.
for feeling love, in all the different ways it manifests itself, even the painful kind.
being able to see the big picture.
the future.

I’m reading Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Self Reliance.  I’d heard of the book before, back in the old days,  with a negative connotation, but I can honestly say that this is going to be something I go back to again and again.  To try to explain the wisdom I’ve found in it would lessen its power.  I have a feeling there will be many passages included in future entries.  Here’s number one:

“No man can learn what he has not preparation for learning, however near to his eyes is the object.  A chemist may tell his most precious secrets to a carpenter, and he shall be never the wiser – the secrets he would not utter to a chemist for an estate.  God screens us evermore from premature ideas.  Our eyes are holden that we cannot see things that stare us in the face, until the hour arrives when the mind is ripened; then we behold them, and the time when we saw them not is like a dream.”

RWE, Self Reliance

Awhile back I posted a list of things I believe in. One of them was “I believe that if you do the perfect thing at the wrong time you can kill it.” It’s true. I don’t have a point to this entry, really. Just that I think I had the perfect thing for awhile.  And timing can be cruel.