Issue #12 A Confession And A Commandment
I’m short.
Wee.
Vertically challenged.
Sometimes this puts me at a disadvantage.
Especially at things like parades.
But my small stature can also be a gift.
It saves me, for instance, from spending much time thinking about, or, more importantly, having to do anything about, whatever grease and dust and grime and alien lifeforms might be inhabiting the top of my refrigerator.
Until I’m expecting tall visitors.
When my more towering acquaintances are scheduled to make an appearance, the gene that makes me feel judged kicks into overdrive and compels me to tackle all those areas I have taught myself to ignore.
Until Covid hit and we stopped having people over. Then it got easier and easier to pretend nothing was happening up there.
Except something was.
Three years’ worth of something.
Which is how, this morning, I found myself atop a chair staring at a staggering science experiment of filth.
I had a decision to make - to grab a hazmat suit and every industrial de-greaser I own, or climb back down and wait for my short term memory issues to free me from the knowledge of what I’d just seen.
Only my tall friends will know which option I chose…
Copyright© 2023 Anne Morse Hambrock All rights reserved.
Windfall
Events
Mark your calendars! I’m excited to announce that I will be one of the authors featured at the upcoming Kenosha Book Festival on Sunday afternoon June 25th. Here is a link with more details about the event.
Or, if you are on Facebook, there is an event page with more details here.
From The Garden
My peonies have struggled the past couple of years - last year almost none of them bloomed thanks to weather that was too hot too soon. These yellow beauties in my backyard seem quite happy but the ones out front are still tiny buds that may wind up drying up and doing nothing. I should know by next week I think.
Keep The Messages Coming!
A big “thank you” to all of you who have messaged me commented or hit “like” after reading my poems and commentary!
I appreciate the feedback and knowing how often I have struck a chord with your lives.
Archives
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