Morning Briefing, January 23, 2012

Good morning all. This is Your Morning Briefing, January 23, 2012.

Why is it, the dark of 5:30 in the morning feels different than the dark of 10:00 at night? I can feel the difference, and the only answer I can come up with is the the nighttime dark sneaks up on you and the shadows seem to wrap themselves around you gradually, without you hardly knowing what’s happening. The 5:30 AM dark, slaps you in the face.

Well, you all hear me talk about Brandy and Bailey, as well as Suzanne. I tried to get a photograph of her to send you but we know how that turned out. I am able, however, to send along a photo of Brandy and Bailey. This one was taken a couple of weeks after they arrived to brighten up our house when it needed brightening in the Summer of 2007. They are, of course, older, bigger, and have taken on their darker, mature coloring, but I still like this picture. Some of you may have seen it before.

Bailey is on the left with only one eye open. I look at this and wonder.

When I see this photo now, after yesterday morning, I look at it differently. I wonder again if these two and Suzanne don’t know each other from a different time and place.

When I tried to take a photo of Suzanne the other day and failed, I was disappointed. So this morning, I will attempt to show you what I see when I look at the opposite end of the butcher block where she sits.

First of all, she is tall and slender and dressed in a pleated, white linen blouse with a billowing white skirt that ends somewhere around her ankles.

Her hair looks like it was spun from impossibly thin, golden gossamer threads, finer than the finest silk. There is never a hair out of place as it tumbles in waves down the sides of her face and back of her head to end up in a shining heap around her neck and on her shoulders. The color resembles the Sun’s brilliant yellow, but it has a softer, more ethereal light.

Her are eyes are green and wide set in a classic fashion. They start a brilliant, almost Emerald green, but they can change even as I’m talking with her. At times, they will flash intensely, others they will have a softer, paler green look. Other times they will absolutely sparkle and at other times, when I see her look at Brandy or Bailey or have one of them on her lap, there is a light that seems to come from somewhere deep within them. That causes me to wonder again.

Her nose is perfectly proportioned. It turns up, slants back down from the tip, in and back out again to meet her upper lip at midline where the groove gives her upper lip its distinctly unique appearance, and connects nose to lip.  Her lips turn up barely at the corners, even when she is not smiling, When she does smile broadly, or laughs, she shows sparkling, white teeth that instantly warm your heart.

The skin covering her face, on which she wears no makeup, is fair, delicate and white and appears to have been made from the finest alabaster. There are times when it seems almost translucent, and at times, she seems to glow. The only blemish, if you could call it that, is what appears to be a small mole to the lower right side of her left eye.

Her expressive hands have fingers that are exquisitely long and tapered, with unpainted nails that are perfectly manicured. I find myself fascinated with them as I watch her sip her tea and hold her long, thin, dark cigar. They also seem to have a calming effect on Brandy as she slowly strokes her fur. I’m not sure if Brandy feels the magic or not, but she does seem to be more quiet than she usually is, when I’m doing it.

I don’t know if this helps you see her as I do, or not. It’s really hard for me to describe this will o’ the wisp who has so captivated me. I shall keep trying.

I showed Suzanne what I’d written this morning, and asked her what she thought. She just smiled and said, “If it pleases you to say those things, that’s okay with me.” I have no idea what that means.

That’s your morning briefing. You know what to do next.

Take care, be well and keep in touch.



About Bob Kallberg

Retired reporter. Concentrating now on recounting Joanie's 12 year battle with cancer, a battle she waged with extreme courage, determination and an indomitable spirit, that, for me, serves as an example.
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