Far too often a passing stranger will look at me and visibly sigh… they are disappointed and they don’t even know me. This is very hard to take. What can be so obvious, from a passing by, that it causes them to feel so let-down on so little exposure? It is slowly robbing me of composure and dignity and that makes me disappointed in me… great….
Forgive me for having already written this, but sometimes (wracked with thirst) I must drop the bucket into this dry well. The rains will come, they always do, and I will grow bored with all the bounty. Today, however, I work the winch and bring up mud.