“This is about all the bad days in the world. I used to have some little bad days, and I kept them in a little box. And one day, I threw them out into the yard. “Oh, it’s just a couple little innocent bad days.” Well, we had a big rain. I don’t know what it was growing in but I think we used to put eggshells out there and coffee grounds, too. Don’t plant your bad days. They grow into weeks. The weeks grow into months. Before you know it you got yourself a bad year. Take it from me. Choke those little bad days. Choke ’em down to nothin’. They’re your days. Choke ’em!”
I had disturbing dreams of dead people. My old uncle and aunt and mum and dad. Fortunately for me , a message came through and the Girls were going down to the Winter Music Festival so I dressed at speed, walked myself fo their place and we did the town.
I still feel like major shit. But I gathered a good day nonetheless,
I am back on my walking stick and parking in the disabled and sitting more often than I like. My ankles are tight and there is a little bleeding. But It don’t make a bad day. Indeed it does not.
We ate out and walked the streets and laughed some more.
We looked through a hippie bus and listened to some music. WE talked with dogs and the Girls did gymnastics. Now its my FaceTime with Eden time. ALL IS WELL. I choked the bad day back down. Way back down.
be still now