My 501 jeans fit tighter as 2020 draws to a close.
A year after losing 20-pounds sharing an unplumbed shack with my dog Clarence,
Ten have returned, but that trade has been a positive one.
I prefer living in a rural environment,
But my neighbors here are good, and the neighborhood quiet for the most part.
One of the little girls next door screams too much, but I’ve grown tolerant and more patient, too.
I want for nothing,
And concoct ways to feed hungry children.
No one cares. Self and faked needs take priority.
A sign hangs in my kitchen.
“I want to be the person my dog thinks I am.”
I want to be the person my granddaughters think I am.
I read Wendell Berry. He is good for the soul.
Haircuts are inconvenient. I allow mine to grow longer than it has ever been.
I’ve added a few more prayers to the ones I prayed as a child.
Life requires good deeds, not good intentions.
Let that be the legacy of a life well-lived.