I think I should talk about the fact there was a wounded black bear on the grounds of my condo yesterday. Shall I remind you I live on the ocean in Jacksonville Beach? He hunkered down in the bushes near the walkway to the beach, until the animal control people drugged him and took him away. I’m in Flint, so I missed the hoopla, but it got me thinking.Here I am, so proud of getting my shit together. Putting my proverbial ducks in a row. I’m sober. I’m reconnecting with my long estranged mother. I’m taking better care of myself and planning for my future. I may even be starting to be a bit cocky – things are under control after all…
The bear is a symbol, my friends.
No matter how hard I try to anticipate the future and plan for life’s exigencies, shit just happens that cannot be preordained.
Picture me and Fiona on one of our early morning beach walks, the sun is just coming up on a pleasant new day. We look out to sea, smile to ourselves about how organized our lives have become and step onto the boardwalk for a long, self-satisfied, seaside stroll.
AND GET MAULED BY A BLACK BEAR.
P.S. My mom’s in the hospital, it took me like an hour to find a Starbucks this morning to get on line and I’m scared to move the blog till I get back to Jacksonville. So If I’m not trampled by a rogue herd of Javelinas we’ll keep everything EXACTLY as is till I get home…
