Homeowner Happy

Homeowner

I just finished reading an excerpt from a piece called Happiness Revisited by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. I thought I would include some of it here-but I changed my mind. I loved the piece and plan to dig a little deeper in to the writing of M.C. Happy as I will now refer to him as. What I am going to do is give you my spin on his spin. Life and happiness are up to you. You can sit on your donkey and tell everyone who won't listen how bad life is these days or you can stand up and fight. Stand up and fight for every minute you have left on this beautiful planet. Yes, manure happens. It should make you pay attention not curl up like a poked fuzzy caterpillar. Somewhere around the fifty mile marker I made the decision to fight. My back was killing me. I had cataracts. I got so many AARP mailings I asked County Waste for an extra recycling bin. I asked myself if this was the way I wanted to go out- bent and broken or did I want to fill the tank one last time and take a Thelma and Louise run for the border. As life will do, spike-strips will be thrown. Storms will approach from out of nowhere casting hail and hell upon you. Don't be scared. Tomorrow the watered grass will grow a bit taller and greener. Hail melts. Police cruisers only have one set of strips (I guess?). The key to happiness in my copy of This Old Horse is to enjoy the little things just as much as the big things. Savor that day working around the house. Today I installed two replacement windows and only spewed one or two words that began with family member prefaces, like Son and Mother. It was rewarding to do it myself. It gave me satisfaction. It made me (?). See, I knew you were paying attention. How happy the little things make you is up to you and may depend on how many cold beverages you celebrate with. That's okay too. Just keep your donkey in the backyard and off the road.

Have a "Happy" Fourth of July week everyone.

I Don't Remember Writing This?

"Milk nourishes the soul; at any age"

I few years ago I came upon a road

A road paved with numbers 

A road lined with dreams

Some dreams I never lived

Some dreams remained unturned

As the AARP mail-pile widened

As the mirror became more grey

Peace tapped me on the shoulder

Peace woke me from a nap

Promises of something more

Promises of life

All I needed was a pen

All I wanted was a pad

The pad became an Apple

The desk a parking spot

The journal by my bedside 

A story parking lot 

Downtown Thursday Night

 Downtown Thursday Night 
by John R. Greenwood

peace-a-parlor
 slice of Americana
simmers
patiently awaiting
teen filled Fridays
mom's night off Saturdays
sauce red
and laminate smooth
always knowing smiles and laughter
are coming for
eight cuts
of
life
one night soon

Writers' Project Meeting #3

Tonight we begin working on our story outlines. I thought I would begin right here with a picture and a pint of refreshment. Thank you to my childhood friend Randy Davis for allowing me access to a pair of old milk trucks he rescued from the woods. I asked if I could take some photographs of them. I will share more story and photos as the project progresses.  I am forever grateful for Randy's generosity  and his lifelong friendship. 

MILK

There is a story in here. It's waiting to be delivered. I have an established route and on this route are many homes. Homes filled with families waiting anxiously for some nourishment. That nourishment will come in the form of words. Words placed quietly at your door, barely a clink will be heard. To enjoy the soothing refreshment, you will have to shake the bottle. Grasp it tightly at the middle, homogenize it, pull out the top.
Sip it.
 Chug it.
 Let it run down your neck.
There, now don't you feel better?
Your mind will return to happier times when children played in front yards and dogs ran free.
Clothes hung on lines and bird houses from trees. 
Farms were healthy.
Parents were proud.
Whispers were quiet, sirens loud. 

Stayed tuned for more

Milkman Keep Those Bottles Quiet

Surprise: Milkman Keep Those Bottles Quiet