Free Ham

Maybe Mbot just needs to find an Amish farmer's market. And age 77 years. But I'm not sure I'll make it....(Photo courtesy of Kathy Bosin,

I am here. It’s just that I’ve been so here that I haven’t been able to be here. On the blog. Appearing on WordPress means being able to find the edges of myself, then stitching ’em onto the ether. And of course taking some time and doing that with it. With my discretionary energy. I’ve been running in the red on all those things lately. Too mired in me to find the edges, expending all time and energy just trying to keep my allotted patch of the universe poop-free, bruise-free, whine-free, fever-free, tear-free, wax-free (Mbot: “I didn’t know that earwax was one of my body’s superheroes, too!”) At least I don’t need my ham to be free, like Mbot (“I only like free ham!”, which means, of course, ham not tethered to traditional sandwich trappings–bread, cheese) or my pito to be free, like Gbot (“I’m naked butt, I’m naked butt. Nooooo diaperrrrr! No! No! Noooooo!”)

It is 5:57 a.m., almost six, and so I’ll sign off and plunge into everything else my day holds. I hope to be back within twenty-four hours. I’ve come to depend on coming to this quiet place.

Will you get to visit a quiet place today?

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