It Rains In The Desert

So it does really rain in the desert.

This post might have taken another direction, like "it hurts so much, what do I do NOW?"

Today I can't explain how to cope with the pain cancer brings, except to delight in God's blessings, great and small.

The blessings that He rains down on us.

Maybe that's why the symbol of His promise is a rainbow.

So, Chihuahuas.

Chihuahuas in the morning,

Chihuahuas through the night,

Chihuahuas that are learning

the world is theirs by right.

Chihuahuas roar at teatime

and thunder in the dawn,

Chihuahuas always in the prime

of a five-pound brawn.

Chihuahuas at the table

(they shoulder Pits aside)

for they are not able

to tolerate, abide

that anyone, however fine

might usurp their place in line.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is BECOME.

I am each day what I become,

and become what I must be

to earn the right to walk among

all the people that I see.

Too many fevers left their mark;

there's much now I don't comprehend,

but wandering though the mind's own dark

must become means to an end,

and I must see in diff'rent light

what others eas'ly ken by day,

and thereby try with all my might

to show it's not grimmest futility,

this fight against a disability.

Four minutes, and while I hate to admit it, it's true. Remember the commercial where a dude held up an egg, said, "This is your brain."?

Then he cracked the egg and dropped the yolk into a frying pan. "This is your brain on drugs."

Have enough very high fevers, it has the same effect. I can mask it in writing, but in person, no way.

Music from Wall of Voodoo, with the politically incorrect Mexican Radio.

Sylvia prefers ice cream to barbecued iguana (did you watch the video?).

She also prefers ice cream to fried eggs. If you ever watched a Pittie trying to eat sunny-side-up, you'll know why.