HAPPINESS IS . . .

Happiness is . . .

Having a garden in the rain

and writing a blog from

the bedroom view.

Happiness is . . .

Playing live jazz on my

keyboard for an art reception

at the Lyndon House for friends,

and 

having my sons, 

Todd and Troy

and Bambi and Shelby-Joan

show up to hear me for a while.

That was Thursday and

then I was back editing

my final draft.

I learned this weekend that

when you send a manuscript

to a Self Publisher like IUniverse

they ask you to select your tag words

Here’s what I’ve come up with

love, loneliness, heartache,

Mother, movies, music

hopes, dreams, longing,

separation, broken heart, songs,

50’s, gloves, girdle, 

death, disappointment, drama,

romance, jazz, blues

Hollywood, entertainer, 

The South, Georgia, Atlanta,

It was an exercise that led

to deciding 

NOT to publish.

Too Public!

So now what?

It’s a strange feeling,

to be unmoored from the tether

of writing for a reason,

and, thus,

 having a reason to live.

I have a slight worry 

of being or becoming depressed.

But, Saturday, after a lovely wedding, 

I noticed the beauty

of the water lily in the pool

of our Fellowship.

And checking in with myself 

on this rainy Monday

I feel good enough to pick

up the camera again to take

a photo of my favorite rosebush.

From the deck I noticed

the huge fig swollen with rain.

My garden of Eden fig bush

bore fruit this early

because of a hot spring.

Happiness is . . .

 plucking it, as it's within arm's reach.

and eating two delicious bites,

then

 staging one more photo

to immortalize something

I cannot seem to do

for myself.

wait . . !

Happiness is . . .

having my own

 Blue Tomato Journal realm

to post a blog

stay tuned . . .