When I read and listened to today's poem on Writer's Almanac it struck a familiar chord. It may seem strange to some, but meeting your first love in church on a Sunday is not as uncommon as it might appear. You're both wearing your Sunday best. Then there's that element of forbidden fruit--who flirts in a church during Mass? You would be surprised. Whether chance meeting or planned rendezvous, Sunday romance can be deliciously exciting.
My own recollection of love at first sight (or second) is still vivid, though I'm sure altered by the passage of time.
The mind is like that, selectively choosing the happier memories and leaving the less satisfying behind. The mind can also play tricks on you.
Things have been busy at work. I wear gloves when I work and wash my hands each time I remove them, so some days I wash my hands fifteen to twenty times. My poor hands need some serious moisturizing. I glanced at the liquid hand lotion dispenser and was taken aback. Did that label say 'Dead Sex Minerals' !? I called Sandra over to the sink and had her take a look.
"Vic, I can see what you mean, but I'm pretty sure it says 'Dead Sea Minerals'. Maybe you need a break from your vampire story."
Maybe I do, but that was creepy. Somehow the mind always wanders over to sex, creepy or not.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WHcQ5wRZ9iU
Yesterday that plane crash landed in the Hudson River. The sight of all those people standing on the plane's wing as a ferry arrived to board them was nothing short of a miracle. If this had been a movie people would have said it was too far fetched. They all survived. They missed the bridge by ninety feet. The Hudson was calm. I'm a firm believer in miracles. I always have been. Bless everyone involved, from the pilots to the ferrymen to the passengers. It's always a perfect time for a miracle.
Picture of hand lotion dispenser~come on, really, what does that say?
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