consider the difference

We have some horses in a field at the beginning of our dirt road. They arrived a few days ago. I don't know anything about them, only that they're white, matching, and beautiful -- and they never leave each other's side. Sometimes as I drive by they look like one horse with eight legs!

But they're friendly and sweet and the moment I stop to take a picture they walk over to the fence to be touched and talked to. Next time I'll bring apples.

treasures or junk?
Early for my dental appointment I stopped into the consignment shop because there are always odd and interesting items to look at. I'm not much of a consignment shopper, other people's clothes never look right on me, but it's fun to browse with a camera. I was tempted today by the trout box which I have absolutely no use for.

And the hair dryer chair. I think I remember sitting in one like it when my mother took me for a permanent wave when I was ten or so. I looked awful with tight Shirley Temple curls and didn't talk to my mother for days and days after.

There were a couple of attractive and imposing Texas women in the shop and they kept giving me curious and dirty looks as I took pictures. I'm not sure why, maybe they thought I was casing the joint. It's a very surreal joint with its jumble of disparate items loosely organized.

I try to take this day for myself. Ron is feeling better and full recovery should happen sooner than later. I spot more evidence of autumn coming. And I spend the afternoon writing. My eyes are blurry from staring at my computer for so long. But I manage to work, listen to mellow jazz, and end up with a modest stack (or computer file) of material that now can be worked on and edited and hammered into something worthwhile -- or purged in the trash heap. I also finished reading an interesting novel called Freud's Mistress. It's based on real research and speculation about his affair with his sister-in-law. Interesting. Whatever is inspiring me now, I'll go with the flow.

Stop the words now.
Open the window in the center of your chest,
and let the spirits fly in and out.
                  Rumi