A crane fly is climbing across my computer screen as I type this. In the spirit of summer I opt to let it live: there is a Mr. Crane Fly anxiously awaiting her return somewhere out there, I'm sure. This fits in smoothly with my midnight conversation over the last several hours. Dear Friend on the trampoline, that was really nice. But you seem to just have your heart set on that Mrs. Crane Fly, don't you? We are so different.
Its too bad that for all either of us know, She is out there climbing across someone else's computer screen tonight.
And Dear Friend in the driveway, I know I just needed to listen to what you were saying. And I did, I did in the spirit of summer and the type of me-to-you connection we keep up over the 300 miles that usually span the distance between my bed and yours. For the next three months we've simplified that number to a prime three. I don't think that equation works out correctly, but math was never our best subject.
Either way I pray that God sends a few of the right things to say in my direction - however let me be anything but super-fixer-upper-friend. I'm a James Taylor type Handyman, give me your situation and I'll give my two cents and a year-long down payment.
And who wants that?
And who wants to read a blog that starts and ends with ungrammatical conjunctions, strangely hyphenated nouns, and loosely-tied-sentimental-metaphors?
A Mr. Crane Fly, hopefully.
1 comment:
this is beautiful.
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