Broken Hallelujah

Ticks and Beavers



my husband: "are you gonna sit at that computer all day today?"


me: "it's possible." [pecking away at the keyboard]


silence.......


my husband: "you know, you're looking a little butch these days." trying to get a response from me.


me: "...and?" [adjusting the bill on my Duke University cap]


husband stalks off ...


I like to look comfortable around the house, what's wrong with that?



I hate ticks. That's one bad thing about living in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Or any mountains. But it's not enuf to deter this mountain crone. I got yer furry owls hooting in the huge poplar tree; and returning woodpeckers making seasonal visits. Fresh air that could shock city lungs. Clean mountain streams--complete with beavers, I said beavers. I have a kaleidoscope of crunchy fallen leaves in autumn and solitude on white, crisp, snowy mornings. There are squirrels scampering thru clover searching for a bite of food the bluejays dropped---- just outside my door. Leaves and blue skies. Nature. That's why I live here. But you can take your ticks with you when you leave...