Sunday, January 26, 2020

This morning we rode our bikes up to the Sanibel Library for the weekly farmer’s market festivity, and indeed, it was a frolicsome festival of baked goods and farm produce. We wandered among the stalls, enjoying the look of muffins and carrots and home-produced honey and various lunches laid out and looking ready to be devoured. We controlled our impulses pretty well and purchased just four blueberry muffins and a loaf of cranberry raisin bread, but we promised to go back the next two Sundays with more shopping bags in hand.

I stopped over to see brother Al in the condo where he and Mary Anne are staying for the week, and I was surprised and happy to see Mary Anne as well. I had thought she was going to church, but she said she decided to take the morning off for some easygoing hours after the long journey from St. Louis yesterday. Lucky for me, for the three of us had a wonderful conversation about a few dozen family-type topics – lots of good words and laughter.

My poem for today:

HER ACT (about Sharon Z., 82, Blessings, CT)

Her dad always said

she should get her act together,

and suddenly, at 68,

while shopping at McQuades,

she saw that

it had always been together,

and that it wasn’t just her act,

but that each moment

she performs with countless friends,

like the flowing sky,

and her talented lungs,

and the skillful movements

of sunshine and starlight.

She saw that even her thoughts

are daring dancers

that swirl and sway

with the limitless thoughts

that prance through the universe

as part of an act

that has neither starts nor endings,

and she and all things

are the clever performers,

even when wondering

which cucumbers to choose.

+ + + + +

One final note about today: We walked or rode our bikes about 10 miles – not bad for a 78 and 79er!

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