Call me Dorothy…

Remember the twister at the beginning of the Wizard of Oz?  The one that rips Dorothy from Auntie Em and Uncle Whatshisname and those three farm hands who became the Scarecow, the Tinman and the Cowardly Lion?

This one…Oz

Well, weekends are the exact opposite for me. They send me spinning far, far, away.  But from myself.  I get sucked into the life of the family and in the process, my private commitments and own desires are lost.

NaBloPoMo pulled me back to myself, albeit briefly and late in the day.  And for that I am grateful.

One thought on “Call me Dorothy…

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