The Sublime Roundabout

I change my own oil in the vehicles I own. It's something I take pride in, because it makes the owning and maintaining of a vehicle more real. I also save a little money, which appeals to me. I am sure there will come a time when I am not interested in crawling around under my cars any more. But for now, I like it. There is inevitably, though, a time when I get oil on my hands. Despite my best efforts - and I haven't ever gotten a face full of oil - there is always a moment when the oil first spurts out from the drain hole that my hand somehow gets coated with the oil. It's really not very much, but the problem with oil is that it's dirty and it somehow sinks into the skin, seeming to seek out the crevices and cracks that are otherwise invisible. Now, I know I haven't the most manly of hands, and I do like to have clean hands. So when the oil makes my hands dirty and greasy, I can't wait to wash it off. I've tried using gloves before to keep the oil off,

Sometimes I feel like my thoughts are like my days, which may be likened to the petals of a maturing rose blossom. As the flower gets older, the seemingly infinite number of petals unfolds slowly, and those at the edges get cast off... They become strewn across the world, adding beauty as they go, but also speaking of the source of their loveliness and grace. I wonder often about the world, where it is, where we're going. I wonder about the way things are and how they got to be that way. I wonder further about the way things will become. I think the future lies with and in our children, and as I look at their faces full of hope and promise, I can see the light of the future shining in their eyes. I think about the things I have done in my life. I have plenty of life left, God willing, but there are times when it is valuable to consider where we've been and where we're going based on that. Interestingly, one of the things life has taught me is that I really don't kno

So. Here we have a new year. I really don't know what happened to 2012. Seems like I blinked and it was over. How does that even happen? I don't know. My dad, who was visiting for the holidays, said that time speeds up. He said that soon decades will move past the same way. Geesh. I hope not. Last year one of my resolutions was to do a poem a week. I did fairly well with that - some weeks featured more than one, while others didn't get any. But the average was around one a week, and I feel pretty good about that. This year I'm going to try to do a sketch per week. We'll see how that goes. :) Wish me luck! And happy new year! :)