At the bottom of the Naughties…

I don’t know exactly when ‘Little Green Footballs’  joined the rational world, but welcome aboard.

Taking a break from packing and moving, which is ever so much fun. Love the view in the new place, though.
The holidays were lovely. My nephews are fountains of an awesome joyous whimsy that springs from the source of the universe itself.

Julia is still hanging around. It’s one of those kinds of breakups. Or relationships. It’s hard to tell which, sometimes. At least she’s enthusiastic about helping lift boxes.

The days after Christmas but before the New Year begins are a bleak dénouement, and here at the bottom of the decade the days are colorless and vanishingly brief, yet managing to fill themselves with the echoes of all that has already occurred. And now I have to go carry more books up two flights of stairs. More later.

3 Responses to “At the bottom of the Naughties…”

  1. Congrats on moving up to the light and the new….relationships that have significant impact always linger…for gods sakes they leave bruises and lasting scars. *shows off her lacerated heart proudly* and the real question Winston is – do true loves ever truly leave? 🙂

  2. What we call our personalities could be viewed as a series of scars left from our experiences; they can be exquisite, delicate tracings of entrancing symmetries, or they can be ragged jagged knots full of old shrapnel. True loves never leave us for when two souls actually touch they entangle forevermore; no Earthly circumstance can extinguish love, or as Bill said:
    Let me not to the marriage of true minds
    Admit impediments. Love is not love
    Which alters when it alteration finds,
    Or bends with the remover to remove:
    O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
    That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
    It is the star to every wandering bark,
    Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
    Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
    Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
    Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
    But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
    If this be error and upon me proved,
    I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

  3. Lovely. 🙂
    (That’s the sonnet from our wedding btw!)

    Good luck with the move. Somehow even moving “up” seems just as difficult as moving to a completely different address doesn’t it? What a fitting way to begin a new year!

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