As the day continues...

Yeah, those zen-like moments can only last a short while before I begin contemplating the Religion of Vino!

The Religion of Coffee

The brisk morning air causes an involuntary shiver. I wrap my fingers around a tall coffee, enfolding it in my hands like a precious gift. Heat creeps through my palms and into sleepy digits while I pause, embracing the anticipation, before raising cup to mouth. Pressing eager lips to the rim, the soothing aroma awakens the sinuses as steam flutters across my skin. Gingerly sucking in the too-hot liquid, I am mindless of the slightly seared tongue. Instead, my focus remains centered on the lifeblood radiating down my throat, to my belly and stealing into my limbs with heady affection. The remainder will be consumed in an involuntary act, but for this moment, my entire being is enlightened, comforted…sustained. With this, I begin the day in a hopeful, Zen-like calm.

Walking Contradiction

Picture this if you will: A small town fair, dubbed as "Autumn Fest", complete with a Bavarian Oompah Ooompah band, local crafters, the smell of greasy funnel cakes, hot dogs, and fresh squeezed lemonade, with me...clad in shorts, multi colored floral combat boots, and a black shirt adorned with little skulls and cross bones spelling out my favorite complimentary close, "xoxo" and the words "Hugs and Kisses" underneath the design. Yeah, I blend...

Let's Play!

I'm puttering around the living room, music blaring on the stereo, when I look out the window and spot a rambunctious dog bouncing around my yard. Of course I go outside to play (inherent in my nature). Walking out the front door I notice the pup is accompanied by two equally playful, though less trusting hounds, as I crouch down to their level and begin to make a come-hither kissy noise that sends the more rowdy of the bunch lumbering towards me with the enthusiasm of a six-year old. Before I know it I'm trapped in a flurry of fur, wagging tails, wet noses and kissing tongues. I laughed, squealed and soaked in the love, giggling and clapping as they slathered me in attention, bits of dirt and a fair amount of slobber. We paused our game on occasion while I scolded the smaller, fluffy, dust mop -- not surprisingly the alpha of the bunch -- for snapping at her younger sibling's inability to control his larger, ungainly body, flopping across her in exuberant attempts to tackle me. They proceeded to romp through the yard, tearing through the thicket near the ravine, then around the house before repeating their affections on my person. This traffic pattern occurred three more times before mom whistled them home, and the three raced off, looking back at me as if to say, "Last one there's a rotten egg."