August 31, 2005
Poem for Katrina
If they had told me you were coming, I may have packed a few belongings and moved along -- but with the intention of being gone only a few days, maybe a week at most.
I would have driven a few hundred miles to the home of a friend or family member, turned on the television or radio, and awaited news -- news indicating when you would be gone, when it would be safe to return home.
After a couple of days, I would be horrified to learn that there would be no returning home, not anytime soon.
Why didn’t I pack my CDs? Why didn’t I bring my velvet chair? How could I have forgotten to grab my wedding dress? Day after day, my mind would wander to the things I had left behind.
And when they announce that it would take months, possibly years, before we could inhabit our homes again, I would apprehensively ask my friend or family member how long they might allow me to stay.
Then I would ask myself, What will it take for me to find a new home?
What will it take for me to go back to my old one?
August 09, 2005
Pistachio Addiction, Need Intervention
My co-worker and I agree that pistachios are the crack-cocaine of the nut world.
