Saturday Night Silliness -- Random Musings of a Writer Lady and Her Cat.

  One of the many adages that my mother taught me as a child was to expect the unexpected. It was her way of making it clear to her daughters that life is unpredictable. We should not be surprised when it throws us a curve ball. In previous posts, I have talked about being a widow and going through periods of grief, change, sadness, growth, and loneliness with more bits of change mixed in here and there. In 2018, I was reminded of another adage my mother has always used, “Never say never again.” Last year will always be the year that I added poetry to my list of writing genres.   Poetry and I have never been close. I look at things at bit differently than most people, poetry became evil to me as a child when my interpretations of elements and symbolism used in great poetry were never what the teacher wanted to hear nor were they deemed acceptable as an answer. I read poetry, learned about poetry, and interpreted poetry for one reason and one reason only, because it was

Pen took the lead and headed for the door to the stairs. Scotch assumed the decision had to do with the pint that she was carrying and followed, nodding to the security guard in his bouncer attire. Scotch stopped when he noticed Pen headed down the back stairs. “Where are you going?” “Downstairs.” “We’re meeting with McLeod.” Scotch said. “Yes, I know.” Pen agreed. “In the conference room.” “The conference rooms are upstairs.” “Not all of them.” She said as she continued to the basement. “That’s true.” Scotch said, as he fell into step next to Pen. “It’s only used for meetings regarding the most highly classified missions.” “I know.” “Our mission was standard low tier work. A simple task. No physical threat. It was a babysitting job.” Pen stepped down on to the landing in front of her. “Babysitting?” She asked raising a brow. “It was a basic run of the mill mission. Nothing about it was marked classified.” “Meaning?” “What happened does not belong in