Basura Cat upon my lap, together we watched the sunrise and how Jack Frost sits upon random rooftops.
Frost is more of a hair coloring that a visitor here in San Antonio, where socks and sandals are commonplace during the winter months.
Nothing like my Ohio childhood, where we would eagerly gather around the radio on school days, making promises to God in return for snow days.
I often wonder why those before me settled in the north, I would have hitched the horses to the wagons, cracked the whip and yelled, “Yeehaw, onto warmer places!”
I am sure that I would have gotten lost and ended up in Canada.
I miss the beauty of snow, the beautiful deafening silence.
I worry about the hatless and the homeless, the pets, plants and pipes when the temperature drops.
As the furnace kicks in, I give silent thanks for my station in life, a home, a haven, a place of peace. I’ve been homeless for a blink of an eye; it was enough to keep me humble for a lifetime.
I have a dripping faucet, hopefully my biggest concern of the day.
If frost upon the rooftop is reflective of worries, then upon this day, my roof is warm and for that, I am extremely grateful.
May your day be gentle, your heart at peace, your blessings many.
Stay healthy, happy and wise,
Much Love Always, #girlwithguitar and Basura Cat
