a private joke
This is a Monday morning. Two cups of coffee, two Koans, a shower of back-and-forth texts with an angelic grandmother, my forever Morning Pages (from which sprung today’s post title), a walk mimicking the other days’ walks, and in which my right knee thought the “joke” thing was pretty fun.
Off to Trader Joe’s, out to the middle of the Vermont Street bridge – I have humming fiends there. Credit Union to further dwindle monies, eggs and vitamins, green things and other provisions into the abundant Joe’s bag.
Oh, here’s one other thing. I ain’t ever taking The Pixies out of my cd player. Though – true confessions – on the drive home I was partying seriously behind the Camry’s wheel to “YMCA” and Michael Jackson’s “Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough.”
Like Walt Whitman said – “I am large — I contain multitudes.”
He also says – “I tramp a perpetual journey.” Pretty much describing the kid this morning.