Sidetracked Charley

Once it has been opened, you know it will not keep . I think I heard that in a movie pertaining to wine or other alcoholic spirits. I have used it to refer to dark chocolate bars and from time to time ice cream. But lately it seems to mean memories. Open as the first rush of remembering, and keep as closing them back off again. And it is not just about Las Vegas, New Mexico, but also the Bruce years. He died in October 2015 which did not bring those memories rushing back. But a mutual good friend has been helping his daughter sort through stuff, boxes and boxes of stuff. Dianne recently brought me a couple boxes of things she thought I might want to see. Things Sue did not want. Memories she did not want to open. I am at this moment not that sure I wanted to either. I totally understand why Sue escaped back to the coast fast. Today is sometimes only safe because we have closed off yesterday. But the Bruce years were a significant part of my life. Bruce introduced me to John Ste...

Aspens turning on distant mountains Google has given up fonts with serifs. I remember those days with the calligraphy pen practicing the strokes which so naturally gave you serifs. I think I first did that in the seventh grade. I was so proud when I got it right. Now it seems kids do not even learn cursive in school.  And to be honest I love Arial with no serifs the most of all fonts. And my cursive daily looks more like printing. I must acknowledge Penelope, my roommate in college, who taught me prep school script which was actually printing. I practiced it in my first ever journal. I have a shelf on a book case which contains all the journals I have managed to keep before Y!360 and my first every on line journal. I still love journals and buy them. I have four currently with a page or more written in them. There is the garden journal which I am religious about only in the spring. Time to update it. And then there is my ceremony journal in which I keep records of ...

It's Complicated A dog killed a cat. More complicated Her dog killed my cat. My close friend's dog killed my beloved cat in my house. Even more complicated, a friendship which had its issues  before her dog killed my cat. She lied about the dog before she left him in my care  in my house Where brutally this morning he killed my cat. The case of murder is more complicated, Judge, than just the facts There is betrayal, lies, evasion the killer still in my care. Who is at fault The dog I have known for ten the owner I have known for forty the cat being too trusting or me for trusting them all. It's complicated I am less one cat less a trusted friend but still must care for the dog that killed my cat. Rest in Peace, Scrappy. j. binford-bell December 18, 2014

Slice of Sky by J. Binford-Bell Narrow The path seems to narrow these days choices so few. One foot in front of another toeing the line. No room or time for deviation. No wiggle room Judgement  sits on either side awaiting a misstep. Time so confined cannot even sit down and cry. J. Binford-Bell August 2012 Wow And how Did I arrive At such a destination Thank you for the honor I nominate Wyoming Diva's Poem Missing