Hands
Earned their keep
These hands of mine
Okay. I’ve been rewriting this blog post all week because it keeps sounding too negative and depressing. I think a lot of what I’m thinking and feeling comes from aging and feeling all the possibilities move out of reach in so many areas of my life. It’s hardest at work, where most people are younger…
Did you know there is an actual name for a Welsh Corgi and Jack Russell cross? They are called a “Cojack” and from the photos and description of the breed in the link, I’m becoming more and more convinced Latte belongs to this club. Along with the agility course I believe I need to wear…
Oh, Baby, Baby I love my new baby Not this baby Although I love her too But this baby Newest addition to my family She is flippin’ fast Zoom! Zoom! Whirrrr! Bling! Blang! Capturing my heart moments Freezing wonder Sometimes in midair She is very mysterious I’m devilishly striving To discover How to push her…
I’m working a lot And thinking and worrying about work a lot And trying to figure out how to stop stressing about work a lot Many visits to a financial planner later Walla! There’s a retirement plan I say, “I’ll work for five more years.” “Eight would be better,” he says. “I’ll tighten my budget,”…
I love digging my hands into dirt. Breaking up rich, sticky clumps and pushing through the top layers to make room for a new plant, I feel connected to earth, sun, and seasons. I find it miraculous that a teeny-tiny seed when planted and nurtured becomes a plant that produces food.
If you did an internet search for “sexual pleasure” and landed on this page, I’m sorry to have to disappoint you. This is not that kind of post. I’m one of those people who has tried to write down three things I’m grateful for at the end of the day. I see the wisdom in…
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Fantastic! These hands have earned their keep? I love that! And your photographs are stunning – as are your hands! I often think that way about my body in general – you know, that it’s earned its keep – but specifically hands? What a lovely meditation. I loved, loved, loved this and will look at my age spotted, somewhat scarred, crepe paper textured skin hands more lovingly and appreciatively after reading this.
Your hands, poem, and photos, are beautiful. (but I do know the feeling of looking at my own hands and thinking “who’s are these?”)
Lynn