R's rue

There was a time when getting up from the floor or the ground outside meant nothing to me. It was as if I just had to press an internal switch and then - Boing! - I was up. But it is not like that these days. Just this week I was lying on the floor with Baby Margot. We were playing with baby toys and smiling at each other but when I tried to press the internal button in order to give the "Get up!" signal, I discovered - not for the first time - that it is just not working any more. Instead of leaping up like an uncoiled spring, I was left floundering on the floor like a beached sea-lion. It was only when I managed to find some leverage on the coffee table and sofa that I was able to pull myself up with noticeable physical effort and some porcine grunting sounds. Outside our house there is a public grass verge which I have tended for the past thirty five years. Mostly there's no need to get down on it but in the middle of it there is a young magnolia tree which remain...

 The feather boa, the beaded necklace and the glass slipper. Playing pretend princess with the tiara of flowers and rhinestones perfecting the wave. Realizing the daydreams of yesteryear are long gone. Reality slaps you in the face as you pull a muscle getting into the car. The pain radiates, but then I think I’m grateful for the pain ironically. I go back in time to the days of Capri-Sun and Fruit Roll-Ups. I didn’t worry about high fructose corn syrup and refined sugars. Now I watch the scale intently ingesting brócoli and kale tricking myself into believing it’s ice cream.  Inflation is talking about what is a reasonable price for just about anything from remember ninety-three cent a gallon gas or a five dollar combo meal. It’s now three plus dollars a gallon and I haven’t even eaten a combo meal in years to know the price. All I want is a Big Mac, yet I go home and make a kale salad instead. I remember spritzing myself with perfume and now they just sit out on display col...