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Today on my walk I saw a dead toy soldier. He had lost his head. They do not make them like they used to. When I was a little girl they were virtually indestructible. And I should know. I watched everyday as my brother thought of new battle plans/formations� new ways to possibly blow a leg off of one of them. My brother was an expert in doll/action figure demolition� but the destruction of those little green men eluded him every time. I have always felt bad for toy soldiers. I saw this soldier lying there in the grass with is head lying next to him and I stopped and stooped to touch him. To see if he was still breathing I guess. I almost picked him up to take him with me� but I remembered from childhood that the placement of soldiers was very specific and deliberate. I wish that I�d been walking by on Saturday or Sunday to have seen the little person responsible for this� to shake my head and say, �When I was your age�� I think that if that soldier is still there on Thursday I will steal it. I will put it in my pocket and hurry it home for SuperGlue and a place on my window sill. Or perhaps I will sit him outside under my apple tree. Yes� I think that he would enjoy the apple tree. And I will name him Burt. I have thought about my entry from last night and this is the conclusion that I�ve come to: It sucks that Brenda loathes me� but what really matters is that She and I are still friends. You win some you lose some. -and- I cannot care about being the persona non grata as far as my family is concerned. I am having dinner with a wonderful woman tomorrow. That makes me happy. . How Rude! - Wednesday, Sept. 22, 2004 - 12:16 PM One small step but no giant leap. - Tuesday, Sept. 30, 2003 - 11:17 AM Where's George? - Thursday, Sept. 25, 2003 - 12:48 PM |
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a Nifty design 
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