NaBloPoMo

Or something like that. It's November! I turned 50 and lived to tell about it. I am going to attempt to write a little something every day, even though no one reads blogs anymore. This blog is twelve and a half years old.

My routine is all askew, thanks to Gus and his hurt leg. He is wobbly, and most days I walk him slowly around the neighborhood while Mark adventures with Clover in the woods. I need to look at the ocean soon, though.


"I go down to the shore in the morning
and depending on the hour the waves
are rolling in or moving out,
and I say, oh, I am miserable,
what shall--
what should I do? And the sea says
in its lovely voice:
Excuse me, I have work to do."

- Mary Oliver, of course