April Afternoon

To settle down after a hard, hellish & stressful stretch is not an easy thing to do. There needs to be a lot of rest. A lot of support. A lot of things that don’t need to be mentioned. That’s how it is for me, anyway.

Routine is such an important thing. Just ask my son. And through all the chaos, all the mess something resembling a sane & orderly life should emerge.

Right now, I am looking for that – that balance. As good as things are, there are still those moments throughout the day where things are… well… difficult. And, yes, I know, EVERYONE has those moments. They have those moments every day, probably. Me & my wife are no exception.

Things need to be done. On the farm. In our home. In our professions. Now, I am a man of leisure. That is not to say I am a lazy man. But in the past month, more external stimuli have come my way than what I am used to. So much family has been seen. So many changes & evolutions happening… it is so hard to believe from where I was a year ago to where I am out now.

There are a few things I could do to change & dismiss & better the daily situations.

Let me tell you, dear Readers, a story: My eyes opened in the middle of the night. I heard something moving around in the closet. Tara was warm & asleep next to me. She had not woken. I got up, reaching for the .357 mag. next to me. There was a struggle. I could tell something was happening in the closet. And it was two people.

How the hell did they get in? Past the dogs! Past me!

I opened the door, and there they were: Jim Morrison between Amy Winehouse’s legs, kissing her. He turned, and looked at me, smiling that famous smile.

“You need to wake up, man.”

I looked down at the floor. There were hundreds of pages – MY hand-written & type-written pages – on the floor. Jim’s boots stepping & ripping them up.

I needed to get back to bed.

And I’m sure Jim & Amy wanted to get back to doing what they were doing.

When I woke up, I thought about all those pages… pages I had been reading the day before.

They are all here with me, now.

I’m not sure if dreams mean anything – anything as in that cosmic sense of truth & reality. If they do, I’m sure Jim is having a good time.


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