i love you mrs parker

My land is bare of chattering folk,
The clouds are low along the ridges.
And sweet's the air with curly smoke
From all my burning bridges.

- Dorothy Parker

With thanks to my sister, who sent me this by email in January this year, when it struck me as wise and funny (although not in an LOL way, because there's a special place reserved in hell for the person who invented that particular non-word) but didn't really resonate the way it does today. I'm feeling kind of itchy-footed and a bit excited, although I'm not sure why, and to paraphrase another great wordsmith I am standing at two diverging roads, checking the signposts, wondering if I'm holding the street directory upside down. A voice in my head is yelling at me to run but I've never been one to rush in. Which makes me wonder why now, of all the times in my life, I really want to.