Saturday Musings

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Latest from Saturday Musings

Good morning,Well, folks, I’m coming to you from the blogspot again because 3 of my 4 sites have been completely restored but themissourimugwump.com still has a glitch.  I can’t go another week without my blog, so, I’m here, I’m awake, I’m blogging.  Life continues.It’s frustrating to be sick.  I’ve wrapped myself in a warm robe

Good morning,It’s just my luck that I finally get my new website properly configured and this morning, the entire webhost where it will live has gone dark.  Punctuate this paragraph with a heavy sigh and pour another cup of coffee.  Ah well, I tell myself.  Next week for sure!  I surf over

Good morning,On waking, I saw that I had slept through til nearly first light with my tablet lying on the futon beside my head.  I had been reading an odd novel poorly translated from Norwegian. Its premise had been promising, but I had read several earlier works in the series and steeled myself for clumsy

Good morning,As I drove home last night, I could not keep thoughts of my little brother Stephen from drifting into the dark interior of the car.  I parked and left everything in the footwell — the bottle of wine from my process server Scott McKenna, the box of chocolate from Lori Hooten Roller, a small

Good afternoon,A long time ago, fifty years or more, I invented a place which I called “the state of Me”.  Its rivers and streams existed only in my mind.  I could amble without interruption or care.  In the world of terrifying sounds and sobs, my younger self closed my eyes and retreated into the gentle

Good morning,Something I saw or heard this week awakened memories curled tight deep in my subconscious.  Was it the car fire that I watched with morbid fascination? The sudden cold snap? Photos of my old high school on a Facebook group page for the parish where any connection to religion shriveled under the unrelenting glare

Good morning,It seems that I have been writing these Musings forever but it’s only been eight and a half years.  So much has happened in that time; so many stages of my life, so many losses and even a few gains.  I cannot decide if I’m in a river swimming against the tide or a

Good morning,Here and there the piles of clutter threaten to grow and overwhelm me again.  I sit in a flannel nightgown listening to a distant roar that could be a trash truck except for the day of the week.  The neighborhood resists awakening.  Only my dog barks.  A quieter hum speaks from the basement, of

Good morning,At nearly 8:00 a.m., a second pot of coffee simmers on the one-burner.  Breakfast dishes and mugs await the flow of water into the kitchen sink.  The bags of food for the high school’s food drive stand on the porch.  Outside, the dog finally falls silent, having vanquished the wind or the crimson leaves

Good morning,It’s half past five.  The back door stands open.  Little Girl, the old brown dog, wanders around the back yard snuffling the scent of other critters.  A warmed-over mug of coffee rests on the edge of the little table on which my computer sits.  In an hour, I will drive north to a hotel