Someone in our family is taking a summer class that involves reading and grammar and vocab. That reading includes poetry and literature. So, every now and then, Someone walks up, plops down beside me and says, “Grandma . . . ” She gets me started on one certain poem and then leaves and I go from poem to poem to poem because she has poked a spot in my brain that likes the sound of thoughts.
Time passes quickly when this happens and now I must make up a couple of hours of work:
I must strive to shut down this computer;
I must seek the vacuum;
I must find the vacuum and the vacuum bags;
And I must not yield to the temptation to blow it off.
***
Indeed, I must suck it up.