Flashlight Giggles


A blustery sky muscled in on
my sunny day. And storm clouds
darkened the afternoon so

much so, that I put on a sweater
that had some dust on the collar
from hanging next to two other

sweaters and an old khaki vest
I forgot I still had. Well, let’s
see! I wore it the last time I

took the girls camping and
made them pancakes. Doesn’t

seem like twenty plus years
ago. Could be more. The hot
tea took away the morning

chill for me then and now as
I watch the stealth of night
swallow up the stormy sky.

I made sure I didn’t fall asleep
until I didn’t hear anymore
laughter coming from the girls

tent. The camp grounds were
getting dark. A few fires here
and there. And there were

Christmas lights blinking on
and off strung loosely around
a camper on the back of an

old Dodge pickup across from
us. Wipe the smile off your
face—it was June. Justice takes

many forms. And can be swift.
The Dodge had a pull out
awning with a table under it.

And a trash can next to it. The
silly lights blinked and I finally
fell asleep. There was a loud

crash. Then, I heard the girls
scream. It was a raccoon attack.
First, the table and trash can;

then, the Dodge. String lights
out. Dodge headlights on. Sure
was dark when they pulled out.

Justice. Flashlight giggles gave
way to sleep. The sun took its
time breaking through the

trees. Pancakes with M&Ms
were probably forgotten, but
not the attack of the raccoons.

I smiled, took my last two sips
of tea, and was glad that I
kept the vest. Still could storm.

Sweater Memories


Hot has turned cool. And cool
has turned cold in the desert
sun. I took a windy walk to

the mailbox. First cold day for
my old grey zip up sweater
that I used to take to the office

for years. Even my favorite mug
is cold to the touch! “Why that
sweater?” you ask. It was for

inside. I’d wear a wool sweater
to stave off the winter inside.
It isn’t a particularly attractive

sweater, I imagine. I don’t see
color. So, I thought if it was
stolen at work, it wouldn’t

matter much. Fraying at the
cuffs a bit, but that is okay.
So am I. Every winter I wear

it; like now, sitting at my desk,
remembering my workplaces
of winters’ past that have long

forgotten me. Thank you, Lord,
that it was never stolen. Great day
for hot tea and sweater memories.