now & how: new digs, new days

there’s a reason every magazine cover includes the words “how to” in large white font somewhere ’round the airbrushed mid-section of the featured model. for every little thing we need/want/are obligated to do in a day, there are 10 million ways to do it. some of them take less time, are better for us, or make our butts look most attractive. the middle spot, where the balance of worth it and tricking the system is struck, that’s magazine gold, and we’re all digging for it.

i’m always panning for that perfection, not to reach an unrealistic ideal, but to simply grease the wheels of the moments of my life to leave as much space as possible for the good, the fulfilling, and the worthwhile. where process meets routine meets efficiency, that’s my jam. setting the coffee pot the night before so i can hit a button in the morning. scheduling myself 30 minutes to sit-and-veg so i can actually clear my mind. finding little pockets of what works for me.

i thought, maybe, when i find something worthwhile. i’d share it with the people i love . . .

And… and much as it grieves me to say it, it… it might be that the people I love is, in fact… you.

here’s what’s working for me: now & how.

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this home, that

with each flip of the light, i search for them, still.
my eyes scan the tile, carpet, walls . . .
a laser beam seeking, my first line of defense.

in that treehouse home, we called them palmettos;
i just couldn’t admit they were r-r-roaches,
lurking in my toiletries, racing from the light,
holding me couch hostage, knees to chest, when the brave one ventured from the bathroom.

i no longer expect to find them, but i check just the same.
there are things i can’t forget, and i wonder when they’ll escape me.

i could see an older me, three houses from now, these sharp bug breaths replaced by fingers fumbling for light on the wrong side of the door frame. the past revealed in reflexes.

will they soon slip away, or just lay cement
for countless other quirks,
as each address layers bricks on my forever home?

from this home with the hatdoor, we take a bus to the city.
craving big city beauty and culture like coffee, we fill up to exhaustion and fidget all the way home.
home, for now, where the bug du jour is a pennsylvania stink bug.

i jump when i spot one, but sigh in relief:
bugs these days . . . they’ve got nothing on those palmettos.

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