Tuesday again... I'm off to the confessional... hurry along.
It's been a week since my last confession and I'm here before you with much to lay out on the table.
Last night Monday Night Football came to Kansas City. It's another sign that the baseball season is on the way out. I've never been a big football fan. It's baseball that has my heart. A number of years ago I was into the 49ers Football when Montana was quarterback and before that Minnesota when Tarkington was QB but never have I felt about football the way I do baseball. I confess that I often get cranky about it encroaching on the last weeks of baseball. And while I am feeling that way right this moment, my son texted me a few weeks ago and told me to keep the date open of the Chiefs-49ers game because he had tickets for us. Ok, I have to confess right here in front of the Gods of the the ball diamond I'm excited about a 49ers game with my son. I'm still thinking football has no business sharing the limelight with baseball as the season climaxes in the fall classic. I confess this leaves me feeling schizophrenic.
Tonight I attended a poetry group meeting of some friends. I was pretty taxed after work and a part of me just wanted to skip it but I confess it was nice reading poems and doing some writing from a prompt.
I shared a poem each by Marie Howe and Susan Rich. Also some of my own writing.
One of my writing friends named Pat has a book that has a page to read a day. She finds it especially uplifting and each day writes her own thoughts and observations in the margins, and these sometimes turn into poems. Do any of us write in margins she inquired? I confess to marginal writing on occasion.
Well, I'd like to confess to something that raised a few eyebrows or started some gossip but alas, you just got all the juice for the week. Until next time, thanks for listening.