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My wife’s friend is having a melt-down. Her marriage is busting up and she is driving the bulldozer and weeping all the while and also singing. 
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I have taken some time off to deal with my kid who is doing bad stuff and how.
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I got a noise in my head like its a hive of bees in there. Plus smoke. 
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Do you smell burning feathers?



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There are lots of moments of happiness, still. They sprout up like weeds through the cracks in a sidewalk. Stubborn and a little bit sad. But there they are, all the same.
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We watched “Days of Heaven” the other night. I never tire of it. 
“He seen how it was. She loved the farmer.”


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In the end, we should be good. To each other, to ourselves as well.
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I’m trying.
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I
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