Silk Purses

We go through tough times, you and I. We get sick, we have money troubles, we argue, we lose our jobs or our pets or our favorite shirt.  Tough times are what we make of them.

I know I whine and complain. I vent. I retreat into my secret garden sometimes for days on end. Then I tell you about it when I get tired of hearing myself talk. I try to write in generalities most of the time so you can put yourself in my words and apply them to your own life. Same issues, different circumstances.

I've been thinking about my sister. We haven't talked in a long time.

I've been thinking about my friends in Florida who don't know about my heart attack. We used to be close; I'm not sure what happened.

I've been thinking about a job I had that made me feel good, and I wonder if I will find that joy again in my work.

I wonder if I will ever publish my book, or if it will draw cyber dust in the archives of the HP. 

My mind races, thoughts tumbling like an Olympic gymnast. My heart pounds with anticipation. I know what I want. I am afraid, or lazy or unable to get it. It's not always an excuse; sometimes it is a reason.

The optimism I felt as a teen is still there, somewhere, I guess. It has been eroded over the years by whatever got in my way. Sometimes people or living, more often it is my own brain at work.

I ventured into the pet aisle the other day and saw a bag of pig ears. Disgusting things--even the dog thinks so. They got me thinking, though, about an old saying. You can't make a silk purse from a sow's ear. 

The silk purse is elusive, at best, at times,  like the golden ring we hear about. I'm becoming cynical. I wonder if there is a silk purse or a golden ring at all!

Like you, I want everything to go right for once. I want things to move forward and not one ahead, two back. A few wishes to come true, waking up to anticipation instead of worry and wanting. Being free of health worries would be nice, and throw in a fantasy or two!

I got out my dressy handbags--a plain black leather, a tiny gold sequined clutch, a white one with ruffles and a small silver bag. Not a silk one in the bunch. 

There was, however, a golden pinkie ring that I had forgotten about.

Maybe there is hope after all.