I miss Lincoln

I miss Lincoln. Lincoln in the Fall when the leaves turn golden and red and fall into piles big enough to get lost in, Lincoln in the winter when the streets and trees ice over and snow drifts up to your waist, Lincoln in the spring when the wind starts to get warm and the sunshine glistened in my hair. Lincoln is like sunlight.

How things change, how things evolve.

I just got a new job. Just a job for the weekends. I sell flowers at bars and clubs around Reno. I make about $10 an hour in commissions on a good night. Most nights are pretty good nights. When I first said yes to the job, I thought I would HATE it. But it’s really not so bad. It’s actually kind of fun, to tell you the truth. I dress up really pretty and go convince guys to buy a flower from me. People are not as skeazy as I was afraid they would be, the bars are not as trashy as I thought they’d be and the sales are easier to make than I reckoned.

I’ve got bills to pay. But I don’t forget tithing, don’t you worry.

Yesterday I went riding with my mother and two of my sisters. A long, good, beautiful ride that Papa used to take with me. The weatherman said it would be sunny, the best day of the week. But it was chilly and blustery, and thick rainclouds overhead watched us on our way. Adventure weather, I called it. But it really wasn’t so bad. Not as cold as it could have been, not as windy as it looked like it’d be, and not as rainy as I reckoned. It’s adventure weather, mama.

I miss Lincoln.