Bo-Bo Knows Recovery

Bo-Bo Knows Bad Poetry

Bo-Bo Knows That Sometimes He Takes a Backseat to Forces he Doesn't Understand

Bo-Bo Knows Gratitude for the Lesson
Mary had a heart attack yesterday.She was walking her spotted dachshund along the Boston Common side of Beacon Street when the dread of what was to coming crept over her. A tightness of the chest? A tingling of the arms? I don't know. I couldn't see her face from my side of the street. The only reason I can be sure that she knew it was coming at all was because she was screaming at anybody nearby: "Will you take my dog?!"Ahead of me, on my side of the street, a crowd of men I took for tourists started talking in French that was too fast for me to understand anything but the word "chien." Dog.Mary, screamed again, more insistent this time, c

Bo-Bo Knows Gratitude for The Beach
Last night I walked Bo on—not along—the Winthrop Beach outpost. The tide was low enough to let us pass between the crashing waves and the craggy rocks that are too treacherous to travel through in the light—never mind the dark. The people of Winthrop call any movement along the water a wave, but I grew up near the New Hampshire seacoast. I know a real wave has the power to hold you upside down just long enough that you're still laughing when you sputter back to the surface. In Winthrop, the waves are beautiful and calming, but they're nothing more than ripples from some restless mermaid's bath.The outpost—that's just my name for it, nothing official—is my favorite par

Bo-Bo Knows Gratitude for Physical Strength
So picture me running this week, my ipod cranking up the goof pop, my feet flying, my muscles making quick work of the five inclines on my running route, laughing when I realize that I'm sailing--as in easily--by the restored Victorian house that used to mark the part of the run where my face turned blood red, my legs screamed, and I could hardly catch my breath.But no more!I've flown through my runs so fast this week that I have muscle soreness. Not cramps! Soreness. As in I ran hard enough to build muscle. As in I had the steam to run hard enough to build said muscles.And best yet? My handy Nike/ipod/

Bo-Bo Knows Gratitude for Sickening Dread
If you've never ridden in a car with a GPS device to help you navigate your way from point A to point B, you may not know that when you miss a turn–either deliberately or because the jerkwad in the next lane wouldn't let you in–the machine will turn the little car on the map (the icon is GPS-speak for "you are here") before realizing that you are so NOT here. Then, there's a hiccup and a robotized female voice says recalculating as your trip is mapped out again to accommodate your detour.I'm sure the engineers who programmed the GPS to say "recalculating" intended it as comforting shorthand for we'll get you back on track in a jiffy, but the drop in

Bo-Bo Knows Gratitude For Days Off
Yesterday may have been an exercise in reminding myself why my job is working for me, but today's my day off and there is nothing--nothing--like waking up with an empty day yawning out before me--no scheduled appointments, no expectations. Bliss.Sure there are things I want to do, and plenty more things I should do (hello, laundry!) but this day's mine all mine, and when my day's my own, wondrous things happen. Like piling up revised pages. And the pancakes I'm eating as I type. The healthy, wheat kind, but pancakes nonetheless. You know. The breakfast we love to eat but never have the time to make? Yeah. Pancakes. Later I might go a little crazy and