Well, it's time to add to this blog. I, unfortunately, cannot add as often as I'd like due to computavailabilty (my own word). Until we get a new computer I'll try and update at least once a week.

Having said that, let me say this: my family is phenominal! Not hyperbole, on my part, just fact. Sorry. If you (whoever you are) take some offense at this statement- oh well.
I've just finished reading my wife's blog and my older daughter's blog and, I must admit, I'm very impressed with their honesty and grace. As a matter of fact, the only person not blogging (as far as I know) is my young son. My younger daughter has, I think, become the inspiration for us all! Good show, Sista!

To my wife I must say I am proud to be married to such a rich and intelligent woman. Her insights just truly blow me away!

To my oldest daughter I give not only my deepest love, but all the understanding it takes to help her see that she is so much better than she expresses in her blog. I totally empathize with her and offer her all the support I can give to help her know that, in spite of feelings (which we all have, good & bad), there is lifegiving love that surrounds her everyday. Not only is she loved by her family but, most importantly, she is loved by God. It don't get no better than that!

OK. Enough of the gooey stuff.

Here is some more prose poetry for you by another of my faves- Nin Andrews. Check it out.

Marriage

It happened on a beach at sunset with wind just lifting
my hair, the dress wrapping around my legs, and the
sound of waves and gulls... Like an ad for eternal bliss.
Strangers snapped our photos and American Airlines
used us in travel brochures. What I remember best is
how I sucked in for air when I said I do, and I felt
something snap inside me. A tiny bone spur in the heart.
A splinter of pain I still feel. Staring out at the water, a
shimmer racing across the surface, tiny sails racing into
the horizon... I try not to think what I was thinking. Not
then, not ever.

Nin Andrews

I'm out (for now)

Hi again! Here's a prose poem from another fave: James Tate. Check it out!

Teaching the Ape to Write Poems

They didn't have much trouble
teaching the ape to write poems:
first they strapped him into the chair,
then tied the pencil around his hand
(the paper had already been nailed down).
Then Dr. Bluespire leaned over his shoulder
and whispered into his ear:
" You look like a god sitting there.
Why don't you try writing something ? "

James Tate

Wow!