So Much

Like me, so much like me
you are oceans deep, my silent little girl

A face that’s like a saving grace; it’s a prayer I will always pray
I know you as well as I know my overly complex self,
and I am forever in love with you
as I was 18 years ago

@8:11am . . .

If these words turn you crimson, then so be it, that makes you real
You are my hurricane on the water, my own personal blizzard of ’90
And you’re like me, sometimes so much like me
And just maybe
that’s a small, good thing

Happy 18th birthday, Jenna
You are a true diamond in the rough
Gráim thú . . .

~Dad

And she likes John Mayer . . .

Gifts . . .

Had to put up a quick post for several reasons.

#1, all you folks that commented totally rock. Period.
You’ve made me smile with your funny comments and I just wanted to say thank you so much.

#2, my dear friend and “true North” writing critic, Annie, put up this post.
Tanks, Gator.

#3, an unexpected phone call from Downunder changed my birthday from special to absolutely incredible. I actually talked to Moe from the Nook.
I’m still so blown away by her phone call tonight that I’m having a difficult time describing how amazing it has made my night.
And to top it off, I’m expecting a call from Mark (Moe’s better half) Saturday night.
Can’t wait.
And he loves the Red Sox. :mrgreen:
Moe totally rocked my world tonight (more that she usually does).
Maureen, you have no idea how much your call meant to me tonight. Huge.
I will remember this birthday for a long time (as will Pamela and the accomplice Hannah)
(And you will stay here when you come up. We have a small house but we’ll figure something out.)

My sincere thanks to everyone for making this birthday one to truly remember.

~m

49

It’s always around my birthday that I get somewhat nostalgic and wax philosophic about my younger years. I’m not old by any stretch of the imagination but at a soon-to-be 49, I’m no longer a little boy either.

I have to smile thinking about several lines from an old James Taylor song called,
I was a fool to care” – (if you know the album title right now, you’re my age)

I wish I was an old man

And love was through with me

I wish I was a baby on my mama’s knee

I wish I was a freight train

Moving down the line

Just a’ keeping track of time

Without all these memories . . .

I have so many sweet memories from long ago: the phone call from my mother asking me what kind of cake I wanted for my birthday (she made many), the apple pie my father would bring home from Ware Pratt (a men’s clothing store, long gone) where he signed me up in their Birthday Club entitling me to a pie every January 10th until I turned 13.

(and yeah, I’d give my twin sister m~ a slice)

So, so damn sweet.

Sometimes I have to wonder if I wasn’t a fool to care about such things; caring turns into sentimentality turns into heartache and ends with something sad and bittersweet.

Looking back, I realize I did care about those things. Dearly.

These are just words connecting my thoughts tonight, folks, and nothing real deep.

Whenever there’s a pause in my writing routine, I get back to square one by house cleaning and moving furniture; it’s my own personal literary feng shui if you will.
The warmest of wishes I send out to my twin sister, my own flesh and blood.
The rivers we’ve traveled run deep.
Happy Birthday, Moe.
I pray our 49th year finds us healthy, full of happiness and covered with more love than we both know what to do with.
I guess this post has turned out to be something of a prayer.
And I welcome that . . .

~m

ps. my sister now signs her emails m~ . . . 😆

pps. thanks to my dear friends, Laho & Liho for the cholesterol-inducing breakfast.
It was awesome.

ppps. Happy Birthday, Guinness!!!!!

Snow

I’m sitting here on Christmas night with not much of anything to blog about but I’ve had a wonderful Christmas and I can’t help but wonder why.
I’m thinking it’s because I am loved.
The girls and Pamela are watching “Hairspray” and laughing and all things considered, my life is good.
I am the richest man in town at this moment.
I thank all of you dearly for leaving such wonderful comments.
Tomorrow is a very special day.
21 years ago tonight, I was driving my lovely and very pregnant wife to the hospital for the birth of our first little girl.
Sarah is 21 tomorrow.
Good God, time flies . . .
Please leave a warm wish or some sage advice for her.
Merry Christmas everybody!
And yes, it’s snowing on my blog tonight.
How apropos is that?

peace,
~m

Happy Birthday, Sas!

Cahoon's Haiku

Bighearted wiseass

Complaining ’bout the hollow

Still can’t find the key

*******************

Happy Birthday, you pooftah-loving bastard. {10.18.07}
And a thousand more.
Somebody has to take care of the garden and water the plants, right?
Not too much water now. I know you have a tendency to over water, or so I’ve heard
{and yeah, McDonald sucked. But the air guitar was pretty good. Damn, we’re getting old aren’t we, man? 😉
Beers by the pool soon, okay? How’s about this Saturday night?}

~m

Cahoon’s Haiku

Bighearted wiseass

Complaining ’bout the hollow

Still can’t find the key

*******************

Happy Birthday, you pooftah-loving bastard. {10.18.07}
And a thousand more.
Somebody has to take care of the garden and water the plants, right?
Not too much water now. I know you have a tendency to over water, or so I’ve heard
{and yeah, McDonald sucked. But the air guitar was pretty good. Damn, we’re getting old aren’t we, man? 😉
Beers by the pool soon, okay? How’s about this Saturday night?}

~m

My one and only love

My Pamela,
You can still make this old heart skip a beat, make my eyes smile, set my soul on fire just by being you. Oddly enough, it’s not as surprising as you would truly like to think.
I still really love us.
There are so many things I’d love to give you today but a favorite love song is about all I can muster and afford right now.
You’ve heard this song many times before as an instrumental but probably never like this.
May you be surrounded by many people that you love tomorrow.
I couldn’t wish for anything nicer for you.
You are so loved and sometimes you don’t even know it.
And I have a feeling that’s exactly what’s going to happen tomorrow.
Count on me, kiddo.
Happy Birthday, green eyes.

9.25.2007

ps. No V.F.W. post either . . . :0{) >

~m