Promises

It was 46 degrees when I took out the dog early this morning. It’s not even mid-September but the trees are beginning to change color already after a cool summer.Then I hear from relatives that it’s 100 degrees and paint will not dry.

Feed the birds, tuppence a bag. I think of a film I saw several times in my childhood, Mary Poppins and its story, Saving Mr. Banks. Ms. Goff re-created a well-loved fantasy to cover her reality.

I wonder if all great artists are the production of uncaring, abusive or ill parents. I’ve been thinking of a book but even with thousands of posts I don’t know that I’ve the angst to do it because I had a pretty good childhood and life. Perhaps I could do it just for money. I don’t think so, unless it was to feed and house my family and that would not be a book.

Family promises were unwritten. We got to go to the Library every Saturday and check out a few books. My husband and I exchanged vows, promises, nearly 12 years ago and he’s living 2,000 miles from us.

The trees are changing and the flag is at half mast (I don’t know who died) and the wind is not coming from the east, so no Mary Poppins. While I always loved Feed the Birds, I always had a fancy for the penguins and flying carousel horses. Best, Dee