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Live Another Day MP3 Download
Julie, on the other hand, fills in on the more practical side of things. Having recently started a new career as an 8th grade English Language Arts teacher in the LA public schools, she's one of the most high functioning people that I know. If I need someone to help fill out a form, build a website or encourage me to live another day, Julie's the go-to sister.
In my younger days, I yearned to live in a town that was a little bit cooler than Kent. Kent just wasn't quite hip enough for me. I wanted more music in the street and more hippies in the park. I wanted more harmonica playing, bike riding, frisbee throwing revolutionaries just like me. I wanted a natural foods bakery with the perfect muffin. I wanted Boulder or Asheville or Eugene, but what I had was Kent. I ventured away a couple times, but I never really left. I just yearned for more.
This morning though, I woke up in a soft bed about 15 feet above the ground. I can breath, I can see, I can taste and I can feel. Lately, my symptoms have plateaued at a more manageable level and I'm grateful to be alive. I'm grateful for hands that grasp and feet that balance. I'm grateful for ears that hear and a jaw that bites. I'm grateful for the skin that keeps everything so nicely wrapped up inside. It's not easy waking up in this particular body every morning, but it sure beats the alternative. Today, I'm grateful to be living in a body.
Not only am I a dad, a son and a brother, but I'm also an uncle. I've got six awesome nieces and nephews. While I've been lying here in bed, they've been busy growing up into teenagers and young adults. In order of age, there's Alex, Charles, Lucas, Anna, Hunter and Leo. A couple of them live nearby but the rest live far away. I look forward to the rare occasions when I get to see them.
In my house, there's a set of three large bay windows that face the south. In 2020, I filled those windows with houseplants. I've got a money tree, an olive tree, a ficus tree and a few others that I don't know the names of offhand. Through the short days of the winter, the sun streams through that window all afternoon and makes the plants very happy.
For the last four and a half months, I've had a full-time live-in caregiver. Mango showed up in my life just when I needed him the most. He's been such a wonderful companion, a delightful housemate and a profoundly generous helper. He left for Kenya last Sunday, so I'm spending the week discovering just how independent I actually am. I'm feeding the cat, preparing the meals, watering the plants, doing the dishes and putting myself to bed all on my own \u2014 in hopes that it all doesn\u2019t bring on a major crash. It's been a tough week and a big transition.
Just like my dad, on most mornings, I eat a medium sized bowl of oatmeal. I boil the rolled oats in water and I add a pinch of salt. I always have some fruit on top and I always add a tablespoon of olive oil for the fat. With six ounces of soy milk on the side, it gives me a good start to the day. I like the taste, I like the texture and I like the fact that I can always count on a good bowel movement after breakfast. There. I said it... and I'll say it one more time. I'm grateful for oatmeal and all it\u2019s intestinal benefits.
And there were people scurrying out of another booth to push New Testaments into the hands of the smallest children as they walked by with their corn dogs and candy apples. (I've never understood why that particular sequel gets wider distribution than the first installment, but having never read either I wouldn't be one to judge.)
The picture sticks in the mind, the mobile home park after the hurricane went through, the boxes scattered, the tide of flotsam and wreckage, trees blown down by 145 mph winds, a former paradise become a moonscape of destruction, and how will they ever put it all back together? It\u2019ll take years. And many of the occupants were elderly. Do they now go back north to live with their children? Has the loss put them in a funk for the next three years? What can be done?
I recall my dad\u2019s love of his Florida mobile home after he fell off a barn roof in Minnesota and fractured his skull and got bad sinus problems that made winter unbearable, he took Mother to Florida to live in a trailer. They had a canopy over a little terrace where they sat in the shade and ate supper. He read about Minnesota blizzards with some satisfaction and I don\u2019t recall him worrying about hurricanes. Both of them are gone now but I look at the pictures and imagine flying down to Florida to rescue my parents.
I worry about Minnesota, looking at Europe where fascism raises its head in France and Italy and Sweden, countries with large percentages of non-natives. It\u2019s a fact. People are wary of being outnumbered at home. America has been the exception, proud of being a nation of immigrants. Minnesota has growing populations of Hispanics, Hmong, Somali, Ethiopians. They don\u2019t pronounce that \u201Co\u201D the way we natives do but we admire their spirit, having escaped dreadful conditions, who now want simply to live in peace and raise their families.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Partial Deletion of Everything (Vol. 2), our recently acquired knowledge, All Roads Lead In, I Am Kid, Modular Conditioning for an Apathetic World, Extended Departures, Low Light Tokyo, upward eyes, and 83 more. , and , . Excludes subscriber-only releases. 041b061a72