It was definitely his eyes that caught my attention. They were quite beautiful. Blue. Big. Kind-looking. And the fact that he got stoned on the daily only seemed to brighten his eyes even more. Interesting¬†thing that pot or crying does to one with light, bright eyes–makes them even more brighter. I know as my eyes are light as well–especially when compared to my dark hair and complexion. (I’ve got lots of experience with trying to hide my eyes when unhappy, after spending time crying. Sometimes for no real good reason, really. Or when there was a good reason. Like the weeks and months following a miscarriage when just the sight or sound of a small child moved me to tears.)

Glenn’s eyes weren’t ever really sad. On the contrary. I remember finding them so soothing, comforting. I remember not wanting to stop looking at them. And the fact that he seemed to want to look into mine as well… oh the butterflies.

I probably lost twenty pounds that Fall.



It’s Friday. The 13th.


I used to love Friday the 13ths. Especially when they fell inside of October. And the skies were grey with a crisp breeze allowing the dead, crunchy leaves to dance all about. Friday the 13th playing at the dollar cinema on the busy street in our hood.

I love Fall and Halloween. So I kind of love Friday the 13th.

Okay so today’s Friday the 13th doesn’t exactly fall inside of Fall, but it’s close enough to reminisce. And the weather is nice and cool. So cool, in fact, that we’re all wearing pants and sweaters, maybe even a jacket.


rolling hills


My goodness do I love this time of year.