To sleep, perchance to dream

What are the chances?

What are the chances?

To wake, to cottonball clouds in an azure sky.

Lovely.

Poetic.

Almost Shakespearian.

There’s a small chance for showers over the next several days, and oh, dear Hamlet, do we need them.

But I must remind myself that a 20% chance that it will rain is mathematically equivalent to an 80% chance that it won’t.

“Ay, there’s the rub.”

A confluence of anniversaries…

Nine Eleven

Nine Eleven

The moon was almost full last night.

Will be nearly so tonight.

With a slight breeze to ruffle the tresses and soothe the soul, I sat out last evening on the front porch of my old 1937 home, in my comfortable cedar rocker, and contemplated the upcoming weekend, this weekend so full of meaning, and of memories. Read the rest of this entry »