LEFT-HANDED VINES

Vines covering a house immediately bestow a sense of stateliness, accompanied by the obligatory murder/ suicide chilling tale, with beautiful antique blue willow plates displayed on the walls (have not idea at all what connection they have with the murders, but they seem to always be there).

Or perhaps it's just the blend of Mother Nature and human nesting, intertwined, bringing something earthy into the bricks and glass.

But it is always beautiful.

So when an actual vine began to grow up the side of our house, I was got overly excited.

I mean, I live in Arizona - you don't see houses covered with greenery unless the house is owned by grotesque water-abusers that will waste our previous resources throwing life-giving moisture away to promote purely decorative frivolous....

Sorry, my desert mind kicked in just then.

The vine I got excited about, however, is a true Arizona vine.

Skimpy.

And will be completely dried up and crumpled into dust in the next week when our little monsoon is over and our beautiful sun reigns supreme again.

Sigh.

Now the left-handed part.

I have complained for years about being whatever the opposite of ambidextrous is - I have trouble using EITHER hand, but ESPECIALLY my left-hand. I am so predominately right-handed that the only thing that comes to mind where I use my left-hand as well as my right is in typing.

In addition, the right-side of my brain is the damaged one - and since that (in theory, at least) is the side that controls your left side, it makes sense.

So this week I decided to do something about it.

I'm writing left-handed.

Yes, it looks like a child's scrawl at it's very best, but that just means it can't get any worse, right?