A Seventy-two State of Mind

November 28, 2022, Grapevine- That the shy young server placed a bottle of Cholula hot sauce next to a plate of chocolate pancakes mattered little. I enjoyed dabbing a few sprinkles on my birthday brunch of Bacado Omelette and home fried potatoes. She was sweet and was trying hard, so all’s well.

Hemingway Brunch, in Coppell, south of here, is one of three eateries in the Sprouts Shopping Center. There is a Burger Bar next door and a “Texican” establishment on the south side of the strip mall. Hemingway is another of the great brunch places in the northwest Metro. We just found this out, though, this morning.

I have had time today to look at where I am now, in several areas of life.

I am more flute than saxophone; more sky blue than cloud gray; more turbinado or fresh honey than corn syrup; more SUV than Mini-Cooper.

I am more salted pretzel than glazed donut; more sunset than noon blaze; more mountain trail than suburban sidewalk; more cozy cabin than sterile suite.

I am more discourse than diatribe; more fresh eyes than regurgitation; more for dogs than for lizards; more immune system than medication.

I am more drawn to cute than to glamourous; more soft and quiet than thunderous; more steady than shaky; more morning than afternoon.

These are what come to mind, as Seventy-two becomes part of my identity for twelve months.

4 thoughts on “A Seventy-two State of Mind

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