On the Winter Solstice, Wreck-Free Sunday

The solstice has a special meaning for me. Solstice is a promise that the sun will return, even though it dies, it will come back.

Ten years ago I died when someone tried to kill me.

But I came back.

I was dead but now I’m writing a blog, isn’t that a let-down? Seriously, I came back from the dead to write a BLOG? I’m not writing the Great American Novel, I’m not doing Pulitzer quality articles for a newspaper, I’m writing a blog.

But the sun’s return after the darkest night of the Winter Solstice isn’t a promise of good times, just better than the darkness. So writing a blog is better than not being able to write at all. I could have ended up barely able to speak, or dead. I still have enough functioning brain cells with viable connections that I can work the keyboard and create a cogent sentence (well most of the time, anyway). That’s better, maybe not good, definitely not great, but better than being dead in the street, better than being blind in the back of that ambulance, better than urinating all over myself after I was jostled as the ambulance drove over some railroad tracks (did I mention that being bounced around with a broken hip hurts like a son-of-a-gun?), and far better than hanging around the emergency room with half my face hanging off and still blind and naked because they had to cut all my clothes off after I urinated in the ambulance.

Just remember that, the sun will come back, and things will get better eventually.

And I have to tell you about the Yule service at my church today, as today is also Mrs. the Poet’s birthday. So I baked a cake for her and put candles on it over the last 3 days. It was a project that burned up most of a $20 bill, but her reaction this morning was worth it. She knew I was baking a cake, but what she didn’t know was how many candles we were going to put on it. We had a discussion at church while we were planning the service and decided to give her age in “fun years” which we based on the saying “Time flies when you’re having fun” and put 116 candles on the cake. Well it takes a bit of time to light 116 birthday candles, so much time that by the time I got to about the 80th candle the lighter I was using was starting to smoke on the outside. How big a fire does 116 candles make? big enough to set of the fire alarm in the hall. Suffice it to say that while Mrs. the Poet was expecting a cake, she was not expecting a cake with enough candles to set off the fire alarm and she was not expecting it to come at the time it came, during the service rather than right after the service. That bit was totally unexpected on her part. The visual of the cake being brought in covered in flames was really great.

PSA, Opus


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