Burning with anticipation

Close enough to to touch but that might be dangerous

It is so close. Any day now, I'm going to do it. I am going to pull the trigger. I'm going to pick up the phone. I'm going to make that call. I'm going to make it all happen all over again.

I’m going to make a great big mess.

When I think about what’s coming, my chest tightens, my skin and crawls all the way up my back and off into the sunset like some ugly, bloody bag of skin, cut lose by the electic carving knife of anticipation

What comes next?

I’m almost certain it will be early in the day. It'll probably happen in the morning. Oh, it always does. A time of the morning when the birds have been around calling for a while and the people and their dogs and their families are starting to make their way up and out and into the good world

That's when it's going to happen.

That is when the two cords of cut and split firewood will arrive.

It’s here.

That's right baby. I'm talking about my woodpile stacking wood season. And I am frothing in anticipation of getting a hard wood delivery.

Beep be…