clarks. Such Self Centered Bastards…(What? This is the TToT?)

OK. Fine! I’ll write that post another day. I mean, why would I talk about clarks being self centered bastards here in a 10 Things of Thank-full post, right?

My song of the week. My “happy” song is this one, the one at the bottom of the post. “Aw, yeah..” And no, that is not Led Z. No riff rip going on here. Nope. Dontcha love that cow bell. lol. Love this song. This song from what, 1986?!

When I was young I would listen/hear music from when my parents were young and think “man, that’s such “old people” music. Well, what in the world is She’s Crafty? Would a teenager listen to the Beastie Boys today and say “man, what old people music”? I think music in general has evolved to the point where the music (some lol) of my youth transcends the “old people” stereotype. It’s often accepted by today’s youth as still relevant. (how’s that for old time “relevant“?)

I resist putting up a formal list of 10 things today. No, not simply because as a clark I do things “differently”. It’s just that I know there are at least 10 instances this past week for which thanks could be in order but I feel inadequate in my ability to describe them. I can’t color them brightly enough for them to shine for you as they do for me.

Quandry. I will always, each day it happens, be thankful I wake up yet another day. Practically speaking that would qualify as 7 thankfuls. No! I am not making light of it. It’s just that I find it difficult, more often than not, to express that which touches me on an emotional level. I live in the world of the rational unlike my rogerian brethern who seem to be able to craft words out of nothing to express their feelings. Or the scotts who slam their words together with such impact you can’t help but read them!

This week there have been simple things for which I am grateful – the touch and feel of the wind on a beautiful day, the sight of a gathering of geese by the side of a pond….I tend to put all my thankfuls in the same basket. The one sitting on the fireplace hearth or on the top shelf of the bookcase. The basket that contains the promise of another opportunity at making a go of it.

I’ve been up for quite some time now. Literally waking with music in my head, more specifically a line from a song. After putting the coffee on, I got back in bed, turned on the laptop, opened the page that holds my “morning words” and started writing. Only my usual morning words started to write like something else. Seems I was writing the 3rd post for tube tops, tattoos and TimeLines. Huh. Go figure.

I’m thankful it’s not now 5:00 pm instead of…holy shit! 11:40 am but I still have the Saturday morning errands to run before I head into work. So…thank you for stopping by and if I don’t return for awhile it’s for not having access to the internet. Sometimes that’s a thankful. Sometimes not.

Here’s to another day. May it be all you want it to be. Enjoy.

It’s the TToT Train. Hold up. I’m comin’…

It’s a long time since this morning when I had all the “ideas”. When the creative words were like morning coffee perking in the pot. But I let them sit. Let them simmer all damn day. Until now. Now? They taste like shit. What’s up with that? If you don’t write them right then and there, they simply go away? I can’t help asking, is it the words that go away or the feeling(s) that produce them?

“Ole’ blue eyes”. He was “it” for my Mom when she was a young girl. Born in Jersey City, NJ she felt a kinship with Frank simply for the fact he was from Jersey too. She knew Hoboken. Now everyone knew Hoboken. When I was young she’d tell me stories about life, her life. As I got older she’d tell me more stories about life, her life. Today, I remembered her telling me about about how she once had a huge crush on Frank Sinatra. “What girl didn’t back then?” she’d ask me.

It’s an anniversary this weekend. An anniversary I don’t necessarily mark the same way each year. Some years it comes and goes like a whisper. Other years, it comes in like a stormtrooper. This year? This year it arrived guerilla style.  I was not prepared. rogers will tell you the horrors of not being “prepared”. Don’t believe me? Ask Kristi. She will tell you straight away I speak the truth.

I am most grateful, not simply for the existence of the TToT, but rather for the fact that the “rules” allow for posting any time of the weekend. Any time. No pressure. And on top of that, people will stop by and visit even days after. Nice. Count that as No. 1.

2. For the rainy day yesterday. For the overcast skies. It was a light rain. And just overcast enough for my mood. Suited me just fine.

3. For the sunshine today. For the “calibre” of light shining. There is a seasonal change to it’s hue.

4. Other clarks. More specifically, for being able to read, speak with, correspond with, witness (to use Clark’s term) other clarks thanks to the wonder that is the “sphere”.

5. Thanks for music. What would I do without it? How would I express myself? How empty I would be. Incomplete.

6. Another day.

7. The Seccessionist Rag. For providing a platform to practice. You know. The writing thing. If I’m not going to read about how to write, might as well just “do it” and have fun.

8. A good job. Most important.

9. A reliable vehicle. Very important.

10. Faith. The ability to believe. In anything. In Everything.


Here’s to us, Ma….



TToT Con’t….Back in the Day…. there was “Stand In Line”. I did.

Damn! Back in the day, yes folks, the 1980’s (T-ful #8), I bought this album brand new. Yes. Album. Today, this day, this 7th day of September, 2014 I’m watching the VH1 vid for the very first time. Back in the day, I didn’t have cable. Didn’t see any MTV vids. Nothing. Back in the day (ok, still am), I was all about metal, young “guitar gods” and the energy that was the music of the day.

Back in the day for me, there were no visuals except those that came from seeing a band or musician live. It was left to my imagination. Point in case, until today, I did not know what Graham Bonnet (his voice could be T-ful #9 but isn’t) looked like. Back then. Back in the day. I don’t want to know what he looks like now because that would wreck it. It would wreck the image. The energy. I still get from listening to certain music. From back in the day.

It’s all about the energy. If someone planted a camera to catch moments of me enjoying certain music they would see a head nodding, sometime singing ( at times loudly lol) 50 something caught up in the energy. It is the be all and end all. Music. It is my “expression”. I borrow this term from Clark over at the Wakefield Doctrine. rogers are known to possess certain activities which are referred to as their “expression”. Being the polar opposite to a roger, as a clark I like the term. Fits.

Where the hell was I? Oh yeah. Music is my aeroplane (yup the Chilis are T-ful #9), music is my aeroplane, it’s my aeroplane….oh, man. Got so interrupted. Lost the flow. Lost the….impetus here. What can I drag up from the vaults to inspire and otherwise catapult me to the finish line? Where do I look? To what genre? What am I now feeling?

That music can be transformative? That it is a time capsule? That it is an expression? That it can catapult, comfort, cajole and without fail communicate that which singular words cannot? As much as I love the bass guitar, it is singularly the six string that pulls, tears, heals and otherwise allows me to feel to the fullest.

This has turned into a ramble but I committed to a continuation from yesterday’s words…I’m thankful for “back in the day”.  I’m strong enough to carry her bags (T-ful #10). My music “library” is vast enough there will never not be sufficent energy for today. If we cannot use the past, what use is it? If we do not move forward, there can be no future. Once upon a time in the future, there will always be a “back in the day”.

It is with sincerity of strength I post this vid. And the second one. Don’t think I need to explain why.


Thursday was my Tuesday

But ya know what? It wasn’t twice as bad. Nope. But it was rather “somnabulistic” for severe lack of sleep. My most memorable moment from Thursday (T-ful #1) came in the early a.m. drive to work. Barely 3 miles out from the apt., approaching the 95 overpass via the “new traffic pattern” (T-ful#2 for the life reminder), I glanced at the driver’s side view mirror. If you had been a passenger in my car you would have heard me exclaim reverently “wow”.

There, appearing in the mirror was an engorged, oversized sphere, suspended above the horizon. Surrounded by the most beautifully hued reds and pinks, and just a splash of dreamcicle orange. It was breathtaking. Had there been an audience within my car, the sight would have inspired all kinds of oos and ahs.  So powerful this vision I had to physically turn my head, just for a moment (I am on a major highway lol), to glimpse head on (reminder to self about life) a moment in time that in minutes would no longer exist. (ok already, I get it. only today. no tomorrow) (T-ful#3)

I’m thankful for those types of moments. In time. In the vast expanse that is my life, surely there are millions of such moments. Stored as if bytes of information on the hard drive that is my heart and soul. It is now 1 day into another TToT Blog Hop. I’ve decided not to chastize myself for writing this post, for participating in this most wonderful of blog hops.(T-ful #4) No sir. Why should I? If I write nothing more than a post a week, do nothing more, share it with others, why would I be so hard on myself? And yet…..

I went home over the Labor Day holiday weekend. Semi-spur of the moment. A couple of days prior to leaving I started hearing a song on the radio. One of my favorites except you don’t hear it on the radio much. At least around these parts. Then I heard it once on my return journey. I sang along quite loudly in my car. Here, take a listen. (T-ful#5)

As a clark, I assigned significance to hearing this prior to my journey. Just as I assigned significance to another song very rarely heard. Which I heard only in R.I. (home). That particular song is not so welcome. Associated with my father’s dying, it is a song which I immediately turn off once I’ve identified it. I heard it 2x while driving in my home state. Only this time, I did not turn it off, did not turn the dial. I listened. Let my body listen. (T-ful#6).

It has been over a decade since I last visited my homeland. A whirlwind trip, it was understatedly powerful. There were no words (still no words) for what I was feeling, for it is was a totally physical experience. By that I mean my body was assimilating being there. Trying to process the steady stream of emotions running beneath the sights and sounds, places and people. (T-ful #7)

Attempting to configure the placement of my own self. There. (Here). On the planet. In space. In time. It was a moment in time. Too short. Incomplete.

If you all don’t mind, I think I’ll save my last 3 T-fuls for tomorrow….

Lizzi, Laura? This is the song I mentioned last night…that you guys would like:)

“A Circumstance Beyond Our Control”

I’m like you. Like a lot of people. I’ve got my skeletons. Got my darkness. Hell, I’m a clark. That in and of itself should give some of you a huge heads up. LOL. Except I don’t hang out in the dark places too long if I can help it. Did enough of that when I was young. Got smarter about things. “Course it doesn’t always help. You know, to intellectualize things. Sometimes you just have to cry.

I did that today (Friday)  in the ladies room at work. It took one event to tip my scales and there I was. In the stall doin’ the silent, muffle tear jerk. Luckily no one was in there. Why the cry? So simple, stupid. It was a day I felt I needed a little extra “support”. It was the last day of a work week that began in a particularly unpleasant way. Maybe I should start with that?

Pre-story. In case you don’t know. I jumped timelines last October 22, 2013 and arrived in Alexandria, Virginia at the apartment of a nephew by association. A lifesaver in my travelogue diary. I’m still here. And shouldn’t be. Which the Universe reminded me of on Monday morning. It’s funny. Only the day before, Sunday, I came to some heavy duty realizations, some decisions and was anxious to put them in motion. For they would put me in motion. Forward motion. Lacking lately, bigtime.

There’s a project at work. Overtime has been extended. I gladly accepted. Woke up Monday morning at the usual 4:15 am. Had every intention of leaving extra, extra early but alas, I was only a little early. Can’t seem to get to work extra early on Mondays. Anyway, I walked up the stairs from the apartment to the landing at the front doors of the building. Looked out to the parking lot and noticed the picture was wrong. Where. Was. My. Car.  It was gone.

Heart beating fast. The f word now on a loop (in various formations). Yup. This event was way more effective than my usual a.m. caffeine… but way more unpleasant. There had been a recent change in the parking policy that I was unaware of. I had a parking pass in my car but apparently, not the right one. $185 and 35 minutes late to work later, I was fuming. At myself.

Monday = having the Universe rub my face in the gritty sand of stasis reminding me that I have languished too long between timelines.

Friday = realizing that I need absolutely nothing. Almost nothing. Just the basics – music, books, instruments, computer. Anything else? Yes. Coffee.

What happened today? I may have mentioned, navigating timelines is not for the feint of heart. Me? I have no feint heart. (most of the time) Yet today I decided I “needed” something. So I put a ring on my right index finger. A silver, “woven” band that belonged to my mother. A connection to the clarklike female who gave birth to me. My aforementioned “support”.

Sometime in the early afternoon I looked at my hand because I felt “empty”. No ring! I’ve lost it! I’ve lost my mother’s ring. Panic. I looked everywhere at work. Nowhere to be found. Result: the episode in the ladies room. Afterwards? Sadness. Depression. And an absolute belief that “things” are a complete burden. Sentiment …a burden.

It’s a little late to take credit for making the tough decisions in life if the Universe steps in to remind us after the fact. I don’t mind some butting in (by the Universe) ahead of my not so seeing eyes.  But after I “get it”, after I see all the things that until that moment I did not see. Really?

What about that? Am I the only one to have those moments (sometimes awful) of seeing the things that were always there but for my own…what? What keeps us from seeing the things we cannot see?


What Else Can I Do?

It’s TToT time again. Thank goodness I can say that….”again.”  Say, how many of you can claim to be going on your 3rd life? Really? Yeah, well, I can. And if I EVER get back to producing my other blog, tube tops, tattoos and TimeLines, I’ll talk about these TimeLines and such. “Cuz that’s what they are.

But we’re not gonna get all mumbo jumbo here at the Edge (ya know… if you hold your cursor over the title to my blog, it turns red. see?) today. No sir. Not today. Today, we’re gonna get all thankful because dammit! there is shit I’m thankful for…

Like being able to ignore (for longer periods) the nagging, persistent doubt ringing my mind’s doorbell.

Or for not letting fear get too ramped up. You know, so that it totally incapacitates me.

Getting to work this weekend before noon! Which helps a little with getting a handle on the schizoid life I’ve been living since last October and….still feeling I’ve a few marbles of sanity left.  At this, I invoke from the BOSR, basic rule # 7.35 found under sub-heading Dualities, that allows for the use of 2 Thankfuls when combined in a contextual manner. Obvious or not.

That my office is now not moving before March 1 of next year.

That my boss is so amenable (at least at the moment lol)  to my making a decision to transfer to our Virginia Beach office or not.  Nice to have the option on the table but at the same time kind of sucks because I don’t really know what to do now!

Have I mentioned control? Ah. Maybe not. If you know clarks, you know that we be somewhat of control freaks (secret and sometimes not so). Different in the way rogers manifest control…the thankful about control is basically being able to reign in…..STOP! I feel the mumbo, jumbo coming on. LOL

Got to count that one, up there, directly preceding this, as a thankful and a half! Whew! You guys just dodged a bullet so let me put in a thankful for you, by me by proxy….

I am extremely thankful for the weather we’ve had this past week. Mostly sunny, low humidity. The fact that today is supposed to see the return of 90 degrees and high humidity? “S ok. It means that summer has not yet departed.

Having just said that, I look forward to my favorite season of the year! Fall.  For the first time since 2003, I will experience a full autumnal season here in the mid-Atlantic.

I’m taking a long weekend for the Labor Day. Going back to my homeland. For respite and perspective. Should I win some sort of lottery, I shan’t be returning to Virginia! LOL (thankful for a good imagination – the part about not returning)

Thank God for the TToT. Really.


‘Cuz if it wasn’t for the TToT then when the heck would I publish new material? Well, that’s what I’ve been asking myself for what? almost 10 months. Holy f’ing shit! (excuse my language, especially today, being Sunday and all, but I really have to use expletives).

There it is. 1st Thankful. Which wasn’t going to be first thankful, but now it is. The TToT for providing a platform of expression. Somehow, someway when all other “somes” are not present.

I have a new appreciation for George Thorogood. He makes me smile:) Driving back from work (it’s an hour’s commute minimum) the song you hear in the vid at the end of this post, if you make it to the end, and I  hope you do,(unless you choose to play it while reading this post), came on the radio. How is it I never realized it was being told more than being sung. As I listened to each and every word my smile kept getting bigger. Thank you George even if I’m loving you now, in the twilight of my years. Having said that I will say this – I luv, luv, luv his version of Gone Dead Train. And I loved playing along with it on bass. Back when I was learning. To play. Bass….

I’m flyin’ by the bootstraps today, so next up….all you writers out there. The ones who participate in Lizzie, how the hell do you do it, Rogers’ bloghop. I can totally spend hours going from post to post to post. I apologize if I don’t make it by to everyone’s place, but at least I know you’re there when I need you!

Real world stuff makes up a quarter cup ‘o the recipe this week. Monday morning I was asked by my operations manager to step into the managing partner’s office. Being a clark, the first thing I did, even knowing it not to be true and just kidding w/my own damn self, was to make the joke about being called into the principal’s office. But seriously, it was “official”. Opening line (after being advised we were on a conference call with a managing attorney – “it’s been intimated that you have expressed an interest in transferring to our….. office”. Backstory, kinda sorta: was recently engaged in general conversation with co-workers, operations mgr. of pending changes for our office location. There’s been lots of buzz/excitement about what things will be like in the new place, etc. Out of damn nowhere, my scottian self blurts “hey, is it possible to transfer to….?” My OM says, “I’ll check into it for you. (that was 2 weeks ago) Story too long? ‘K. Bottom line: if I want to transfer down (hint) to our ….office, you can. Just let us know. And, if you want to go and work there for a day or 2 to see if you like it, let us know. Wow. Do I have a great boss or what?

If I want to take my leave of the Washington, D.C. metro area and trade it in for a “beach” town that is kind of like here but not, I now have that option. Life is about options, no? Thankfuls from that long assed paragraph up there?: my 2ndary scottian aspect speaking up without thought to the outcome LOL; not worrying whether or not I could transfer; now having the option to transfer and lastly, the flexibility to do so.

In case the counting is getting a bit fuzzy, I’m up to #7. 3 more Thankfuls. Got to love how things work out. The week began with the opportunity to transfer to another office within our company. Then came the OT. It’s project time and with it authorization to work a little overtime. Which will come in mighty handy when I take a trip to check out my “new” office.

I don’t know that I will ever have a week of TToTs without mentioning the Wakefield Doctrine. For those of you who haven’t heard about it, it’s a most efficacious life tool. To be perfectly frank and honest, if I did not have the WD, I might not be inclined to accept the offer of this transfer (not that I have but, you know, in case I do). But by knowing, by being able to identify how a person relates themselves to the world, I have an incredibly cool and often fun, foolproof method of dealing with pretty much anything and anyone. The caveat? To remember that “it’s about me, not them”. To remember I always have a choice.

“The world is a feeling. I’m responsible for how I feel”.

Thankfuls and Cupfuls or is that Cup Full?

Gee. I’m not used to beginning a post this way. How? Did you say how? With music blasting  at me a out of this here latptop. In front ‘o my face. What am I listening to? One of my favorite band’s greatest hits cd. I daresay I never would have thought they would have a “Greatest Hits”. Yes, I am being judgemental. In reality, why shouldn’t they. Personally, I love the idea of “greatest hits”. Here. Take a listen. Excellent. Except for the commercials. WTF?! A commercial after every other song?!? Really youTube? You gotta go and wreck the cd?

Most of the folks I know on the net wouldn’t care too much for these guys. Yes, Christine. It is an acquired taste but I bet I could come up with some “heavy” music even you’d like! Since you have an aversion to bleeding ears, I suggest you don’t click that link up there.

Queen Lizzi I, Host-Ess of the TToT bloghop (of which this is an entry. promise) is someone else who would not appreciate the link of excellent music. As much as I have come to adore her, Cyndi over at Pictmilitude is another who I know would not care for….the link.

Enough! My friend Zoe at Rewritten has been writing an extraordinary blog for – um, you know, I don’t know! I will have to ask her. I’ve lost track at how long it’s been since discovering her blog, which I found btw, after reading some comments she left at the Wakefield Doctrine. Has to be a year or more ago. The Bread Crumb Syndrome. I love it. One can literally follow cyber bread crumbs forever!

Man, wandering is my mind. It’s the music. Yes, it is music! Just ask Laura. Anyway, Zoe’s post today is about the SBOR/BOSR. Why it is so very important. And thank all that is good that Zoe is now the official Emissari-Ess of the 7GVs and overseer of…the Book. It’s in good hands.

No. I’m not stalling. Yes. There are thankfuls preceding these words. And if I count correctly I’m already up to well, more than 10! At least 10. Specifically? More? ….New battery arrived for lapbaby! Now I have the capability of dragging said baby around with me. You know, in case there is a sudden tsunamic wave of creativity that threatens to overcome me and I quick need to find some free wi-fi.

Hey, there’s one other thing I’m pretty thankful for. Having a place to practice writing. The kind of writing I have no clue about how to do! LOL So-o-o… I promise I’m going to read up on how to properly form a sentence, use tense, set up dialogue and, and! develop characters and all that other stuff. For now though, I’m just having fun with my friend Roger at the Secessionist Rag.

We’ve been alternating chapters pretty consistently lately. I published Chapter 22 last week and look forward to Roger’s Chapter 23. It’s a detective story hopefully in the style of Robert B. Parker. Hopefully, getting some legs. Check it out. Leave some feedback if you’ve a mind to. I have a feeling if Roger doesn’t htfu with Chapter 23 I might have to write it myself!




Of Metal and Mayhem and the Softer Side….

….of clarklike females. So yeah. The vid today is of a clarklike female. Performed by a clarklike female. Du-uh. Dead giveaway? The boots. With that dress. OK. “Easy peasy”. For clarks to spot at any rate. Sure. Plenty of my sisters wear boots. It’s not the fact of boots, rather the wearing of them that makes the difference. What do I mean by that? Well, it’s about what it represents. It is not a conscious thing.

How to tell the clark, scotts and rogers in your life? Well, there are certain “characteristics”, markers if you will, that give you a clue. Bottom line? It’s how a person relates themselves to the world. I often talk with Clark of the Wakefield Doctrine. You too, btw, can call in every Saturday night, 8:00 pm EST.  We wind up talking Doctrine eventually, right Cyndi? :)

I’m about self-development. Most of you know that already.  Being a clark, it’s a nev-er – en-ding endeavour. As it happens, I was talking to Clark yesterday. One thing led to another and we got talking about his post about rogers and their “expression“. About what it means for a roger to lose their “expression”, what it means when there is no longer a “context” for them to manifest that expression. Conclusion? It’s not a personal thing. It’s about the herd.

Our conversation ended with a brief discussion about the rogerian characteristic known as “lashing out”. What it represents, how it manifests and with whom. Hint:  scotts got nothin’ to worry about! It’s a sensitive topic for sure. Who likes to talk about the negative aspects of our selves?

I won’t lie. It’s often not a pretty conversation. But you know the old saying – “no pain, no gain”. Self improvement, from a clark’s perspective, requires talking about (for example) our propensity to tolerate a roger’s lashing out as much as why rogers behave this way with clarks (mostly).

Yep. Much can be learned about oneself via the Wakefield Doctrine. And I’m talking to you scotts! and rogers now as well. You can learn a ton of shit about other people. And learn a lot about your own damn self.

At some point, when the dots start connecting, when the language to express the understanding begins to emerge, it’s a hell of a lot of fun. It’s not all about the negatives. It’s simply about what makes people tick. Life 101.

There’s a common saying about the Doctrine: “it’s for you, not them”.  Think I’m going to request a special order t shirt from Clark with just that saying…

It’s Wednesday. Thanks for stopping by and reading my mid-week ponderings. Hey Christine! More music that doesn’t make your ears bleed:)


It’s a Non TToT Sunday.

It’s Sunday night. I’m sitting on the bed, in the room that has been “home” for the last 9 months. I have the overhead light on because I have my laptop plugged into the outlet usually reserved for my bedside lamp. Not that it’s dark in here. Not yet. In fact, it’s still light outside. I can see it seeping through the slits of the verticals. It’s a soft sunset tonight. I can tell.

I went out over an hour ago for a walk. My bone building walk. After I cooled down, after a not uplifting conversation with my distant other half, I decided to fix myself something to eat. Yes! I’ve made progress in the weight department – up to 106 lbs. Woohoo!

I don’t often buy meat but when I was in the store a couple of weeks ago I spotted a package containing 3 little steaks. Boneless, red, oval. I took them home. This evening, God forgive me, I put one of them in a frying pan. It is my only option. After keeping an eye on the tiny piece of protein and when it was cooked as well as could be expected, I put it on a small plate. Not the dinner one. The salad one. Or did they used to call it the desert plate? At any rate, small steak on plate, I headed back to “camp”.

I’d been sitting on the left side of the bed.(left, as in looking towards the bottom of the bed). In my other TimeLine, I’d be sitting on the right side. The right side had been my side. Huh….. anyway, back propped by 4  pillows, the wall served as headboard.  The laptop was in front of me. A minimum of 2 books, a couple of magazines, a pen, some paper were strewn beside me. Table set.

I put the plate on the bedside table to my left and situated myself. Ok. Computer screen at 12 o’clock, right leg straight out, left leg curled in. Half Indian style I guess. Anyway, I set the plate on the bed directly in front of myself, moved the computer a little closer and dug in. Yeah, it was a little tough but hey, I’m just eating it to get the benefits, yo.

Almost immediately, I slowed down (seems I was a bit hungry) and decided to cut the few pieces I’d already cut into yet smaller pieces.  I did this….slowly. Deliberately. Suddenly my thoughts were totally of my Dad. I remembered how, in his later years, he would cut his meat – precisely, in small, bite size pieces. Immediately, I made the concious decision to cut the entire tiny steak before me in this same manner. It felt weird, but not.  It made me think of Phyllis and her guest post at the Wakefield Doctrine’s Guest Post Thursday’s Guest Post.

There is no one who will iron and think of me. There is no one to cut their meat and think of me. What in the world, I wonder, will someone think of me. One day.







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