mk106
Wealth looks like...whatever you want it to mean.
I'm always on the go. Some days, I have two jobs and drive through six counties. I'm moving, driving, restless, running to get away from the sensation that my life is full of stagnation.
I will not get political. I will not get political. I will not get political. I will not talk about the riots. I will not talk about the riots. I will not talk about the riots. I will not get political. Being a teacher is hard. "Who did you vote for, Mrs. Kiefer?" Who did you vote for who did you vote for who did you vote for. The word idiots--it's been thrown around too much these past several months. This has been the first election where students I respect and love come to me and cry. And my heart breaks for them. Who did I vote for? How about I don't say. I believe in love but not the kind of love that either candidate expressed. Who did I vote for? For God. For guns. For pro-life. For military. For law enforcement. Love? Tough love. It's all contradictory, isn't it? I will not get political. I will not get political. CRAP. It's all political.
"Onward Christian soooo-l-diers, marching on to war," are the lyrics I remember from Vacation Bible School. Pigtails and sparkly jelly shoes, I remember deliberately and enthusiastically marching. I didn't know, then, that the battle was more than scraped knees on the playground, more than running out of sugar wafer cookies and purple punch,
A human's perspective can be cloudy and complicated. My perspective is often biased and confused. Furthermore, decision-making is difficult for me because I try to consider the problem from many angles and all perspectives.
What I really want is the perspective of a puppy. Yes. I want to see life from a puppy's point of view. :)
I put safeguards in place. I put my guard up in most situations. I take every measure I can to ensure nothing bad can happen, nothing unexpected or surprising. The funny thing about life? It doesn't matter. Life doesn't care about the safeguards, the guardrails. Life cannot be controlled.
This summer I grilled you salmon with lemon and butter and sea salt. I try to embrace this autumn, what was once my favorite season. Instead I long for citrus, for charcoal, for delicate pink underbelly flesh. Something fresh. Something caught. A time when supper was a casual and intimate event that could take place at ten o'clock at night and the aroma of coffee was my only alarm for the morning.
My cabinets are messy. They mock me. Each time I open the cabinet doors, I get the message: There's always something you haven't done. You could always be better. Nothing in your life will ever quite fit.
Growing up, I wished I was the middle child. In reality, I'm the oldest and only have one sibling. Some kids think the middle child is the forgotten child. I wanted to be out of the limelight. I wanted out of responsibility. I wanted my parents to not have the excuse, "Well, we didn't know. We don't know what's normal. We've never done this before."
Traffic signs make me think of my husband--and not just because he's a cop. Words like Stop. Or green lights. Or red lights. Or red and blue lights. Or Pedestrian Crossing. Or Falling Rocks. Words like Merge. How do you merge two lives together. Traffic laws are a lot like marriage.
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