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Fingering weight…

January 20, 2011

The longer she stood there patting him,

his breath streaming over her cheek,

the feeling of peace flowed through her…

The dog radiated an air of happy calm…

Sam’s earlier feelings of restlessness drained away…

The muscles around her throat unclenched so the horrible tightness eased and melted…

They stood there for what seemed like ages…

Sam wanted the good feeling to last forever…

— in Black Dog, Dream Dog by Michelle Superle

Last year,

I started knitting a pair,

of play-off socks,

for Kyle Wellwood…

But the way things unfolded,

for the Canucks,

and the Blackhawks,

the urgency,

for completion,

disappeared…

I kept the project,

on the back burner,

once I’d learned Kyle,

was in Russia,

because I know,

from my own thermostat,

that anything warm,

made with love,

can be just what,

the doctor ordered,

whether you’re kept,

sitting on the bench,

or playing out,

a match up,

with an opponent,

whose middle name,

is Gulag…

Now that Kyle,

has signed on,

with San Jose,

and he’s in,

the vicinity tonight,

I’ve got a hankering,

to put on my boots,

that are made,

for walking,

and head downtown,

with my horse,

for a little look-see…

In my world,

face-offs,

in Roger’s Arena,

are the 2011 equivalent,

of a wild west,

shootout,

in front,

of the courthouse…

Sorting through,

the information,

of past,

present,

and future,

which settle,

in my saddlebags,

and making sense,

of it all,

is no easy street…

But in my book,

if you ain’t livin’ hard,

well then,

maybe you ain’t,

really living,

at all…

One of the things,

that really,

cracks me up,

is when someone,

who is well lettered,

and in a position,

of authority,

says to me,

point blank,

I am a man,

and I am a scientist…

In these reoccurring,

moments,

even in this day,

and age,

I still bite,

my tongue,

so’s to silence,

the howling,

and maintain,

my ladylike,

composure…

If my people,

ever elected me,

premier,

the first bill,

I would bring,

to the house,

with all,

my letters,

and authority,

would be a promise,

written in stone,

to expose,

all the insanity,

masking itself,

as logic…

Brought me down upon my knees… (photo:Starshine)

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