Voices drifting up, through the heating vent in the living room floor, I just heard the almost 13 year old neighbor guy say, “Somewhere over the rainbow?”
My oldest son (13 1/2) replied, “Might be over the storm clouds.”
Odds are good they are talking video games. But seriously?! I just wrote about singing a few bars of that song, while walking on the sidewalk, across the street from where our side by side houses are! I’m not making this up! My writing is memoir, not fiction, especially the really weird, crazy and not too whackadoodle stuff.
January 1, 2014
(My jean clad azz is off the cozy love seat spot and I am standing up. Blue dog stretched out and is resting his head upon a striped pillow. Life is good, especially for the napping dog.)
I’m sitting on the living room love seat, dressed half in pajamas, and half in clothes (jeans pulled on top of the long underwear pants I slept in).
Blue dog is wedged against my hip on the left, in his favorite living room love seat spot.
I’ve been playing on my phone.
Just picked A RAINBOW RIBBON up off the ground!
I kid you not!
I even thought of, “Over the Rainbow,” and sung a few bars, as Blue and I stepped on the sidewalk beside Luna’s fence.
Right after that musical moment we turned a corner and spied this bit o’color.
I took a picture.
I picked up the piece of rainbow ribbon.
A rainbow, in an unlikely place.
Found it looking down, not up.
Evidently today is A Writing Day.
January 1, 2014
(Excerpt from a New Year’s afternoon email reply to my sister. She knows the significance of my mentioning, “Over the Rainbow” too.)