lucky day

9" x   8"

historically, friday the 13th is my lucky day.  it all started in elementary school when i found a wallet lying in the dirt on the playground with $300 dollars in it.  like a good girl, i turned it in to the office.  the owner decided to reward me for my honesty with 50 bones.  i was presented my reward during an all-school assembly, most likely to "set an example" for my fellow ragamuffins.  the following year, i won four blazers tickets in a raffle on friday the 13th. at the time they were in the championships and we were enthusiastically chanting their token "bust-a-bucket" theme rap during choir class.  thus began my streak of beating friday the 13th's unlucky reputation.

today when i woke up with a whopping headache from 2.5 glasses of the red stuff, i didn't feel so lucky. now that i'm 30, things like drinking alcohol quickly take a toll.  my constitution isn't so rubbery.  i can't party all night.  i have blossoming crows feet where my smile has repeated.  and my feet are sore. i'm getting older.

james let my crabby ass sleep in a little.  i soon awoke to a familiar laugh downstairs.  it was my dear friend annalee, for a surprise visit.  her calm demeanor calmed mine, and i felt a little better.  a few minutes after she left, kj and david showed up for a surprise visit.  kj and i sat in the sun drinking water discussing this and that, and i felt a little better still.  after they left, libby and steeb and little franklin showed up.  we cozied up on a blanket on the floor and played like good friends do.  

driving home from dinner this evening i saw my first great horned owl.  it was unmistakable, up on the line, blowing in the wind, little horns silhouetted in the red of the sunset, still enough light to see it's face in all its glory.  and as i sit here typing while my james plays piano and sings the sweetest melody, overwhelmed by the beauty of it all, i say to myself: by god, this sure was one lucky day. 

1 comment:

  1. uh oh. there's a tear in my beer right now. because you are so clever, and so dear to me. for me, old age is manifesting itself in my sentimental brain pockets. i cry all the time. abrasive and abrupt as i might be.