Carry On

On a gloomy day, it's hard to keep writing about the somewhat superficial things that are the icing to our daily cake.  I love icing, mind you.  To me, it's not just a gooey, sweet disguise to cover the real deal underneath; nope, the cake wouldn't interest me at all without it.  And the more and darker chocolate, the better (or cream cheese icing on carrot cake, which I still dream about).

New York today is a gloomy one, though, and apparently just one of a full week of them we can expect around here.  Au contraire, however, is Paris, which I know has had a fabulous and warm spring (unless you're a farmer, in which case it's too dry, this year, but there will be other years for the farmers).  

There is something about adulthood which offers so much, opens so many doors to much that is so beautiful, if we want to find it.  But it also permits us to push aside the curtain behind which the "man behind the curtain" resides, pulling the levers and cables that control the sounds, lights, smoke and mirrors that are there to distract us.

And yet, as we know (and likely had nightmares about - I know I did - the first few times we watched "The Wizard of Oz" - fyi, I firmly believe that movie should be R-rated), the man behind the curtain controls nothing but the distractions.

I apologize for the gloomy post today.  When I began this blog in April, I felt it would be my outlet to display only beautiful and pleasurable events and surroundings which are always so much more enhanced when shared.  I learned this through the joy and sharing of dear friends, some of whom live far away and some of whom I will no longer see in this life.  They taught me that the joy of the new discovery is multiplied in the sharing of it.  And so, selfishly, I share with you what pleases me through the posts I've created to date.

Life is more than that, of course, and life at its most difficult is when we need people in our lives the most, as well.  Today is one of those days, as I watch the rain that came down suddenly, quick, hard and loudly, almost as if the skies burst into tears.

There are no pictures for it.  At its most difficult, it is simply incomprehensible.  I can't even get a picture in my mind, much less in a camera.

And then there is nothing left to do but carry on.  Enjoy what's there in front of us, hold the people dear to us, try to sleep a good sleep, and wake up to another day.  I guess.