There is More than Dorothy in Kansas

I'm watching old reruns of Star Trek on TV Land right now. I'm lying on the floor, on my stomach, as I type this. My father brought by a surprise last night in Charlie's wife's old laptop. She got a new one and they gave me the old one. Maggie is on the couch preening like a bird. She has just had her Pupperoni dog treat for the morning. I had a cheese Danish and a mug of sweet, milky coffee. Uhura just walked into a scene upon the bridge of the Enterprise in that famous skimpy Star Fleet outfit. My, that must have been racy for the sixties. She was one sexy woman.

I cannot begin to express how lucky I am these days. This is always my favorite time of the morning after a good night's sleep and I am able to enjoy it sane and sober. There were most times in my life that 6 am would find me paranoid, pacing the floor, and drunk off my ass. I would open all the windows in my old apartment in the dark cold of winter thinking I was going to be homeless again. "I have to get prepared and acclimated," I would tell myself. One night mom came over to check on me and I had all my windows open and it was forty degrees outside. She quietly called my father as I was wrapped in my warm sleeping bag upon the bed drinking an ice cold Miller High Life. "Let's get you in the hospital," my father said as he held my hand. The day I came home from the hospital a week later Abbagirl had called the police worried about me. A nice policeman showed up at the door as I was unpacking. "You okay?" he asked after knocking on my door. "A girl from Kansas called concerned about you." She was worried that doing this would have upset me. I was just glad for those far flung friends in Kansas that cared to call. Love ya, girl. Thank God for friends in Kansas.