I walked Blue through the park this morning early, our favorite route, while a cold rain fell. As my peacock adorned rain boots hit the wet sidewalk, after we made it through and were headed on toward home, these words rang in my head in a steady rhythm:
“Grit, Steel, Grace and Love
that’s what Janean Baird is made of.”
Of course it should read, “Janean Marie Thompson Baird” but that’s too long and ruins the word flow.
I’m going to wake up the boys next and plan on unplugging as best I can to make art today, for that is the soothing balm my aching and weary soul needs most.
March 11, 2013