From the category archives:

Santa Barbara

I live on a noisy street. By dawn, lumbering rattling earth-quaking construction vehicles and delivery trucks chug, growl and roar past my apartment house, which is a dog’s fart distance from the intersection. Thus, the revving up to proceed with their early morning’s constant cacophony is the bitter pineapples on this Paradise Upside-Down Cake.
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Excerpts from Previous Posts

I don’t claim to be a great mirror. I have scars, spinach stuck to my teeth and a variety of smudges on my soul left over from sloppy eating habits, perhaps, plus plenty of dust in the corners. I’m cranky and rough around the edges with a few cracks and pains that cause me to grumble, snarl and scowl at pretty faces peering into me.  
 The Kat
Mirror Mirror