It all started - literally - over a glass of spilt milk. A 6 oz puddle of 2%. A small white puddle slowly spreading out in all directions, taking on what seemed - in His eyes - to become an Olympic-sized swimming pool. A momentary pauseÖ
† † † †Ö then the screaming began.
This event, a cup accidentally knocked over, was the catalyst for the explosion. Aimed at two kids sitting: cereal spoons in hand; half-eaten bowls of sugary, fruity, Oís; once-melted butter solidifying on cold toast. In the kitchen, at a place where normally itís a time to get energized for a...
A sea of frostbitten faces bundled up, walking in undulating waves along sidewalks; angry whitecaps and swirling eddies moving every which way under an overcast sky with an icy wind howling, dictating their course.
I sit and watch in t-shirt and shorts, in a beach chair under an umbrella, cold beer in hand, touched by a warm breeze, enjoying sunny and 70.