When I'm alone

I hear about burned baby koalas in Australia. Clinging to stuffed animals because they're mamas are gone and they need to hug. Nesting in laundry baskets in a woman's home.

A reminder not to wallow.

I pop avocado (sushi) rolls into my mouth. Savoring the taste of the sea mixed with the luscious give and buttery flavor of avocado. Then, because I can't resist, I follow with a slice of prosciutto di Parma. It's all about the intense wall of flavor with prosciutto.

This quells my headache.

I spend my birthday gift certificate from Cap on knitting needles. I buy what is needed for three different projects queued up for 2009. And a button from the $1 jar. I savor the cold air and the silent company of myself. I duck into the used bookstore to look for a Valentine gift for Cap. Peruse poetry for a long while, but walk out with a new copy of prose.

My headache is back by the time I walk in the door.

The kids are engrossed in new Star Wars lego sets (their Valentine gifts). The building of and then the playing with. I'm unsettled, I'm unsettled, and then I settle. I resume knitting Leo's baby blanket. I think of the koalas again. Matt Pond sings "if you live a love, live it like your last".

I get up out of my knitting chair to write about koalas.