A Lady’s Guide to Rising

DarkWorkX on Pixabay

My hoops hold me, and make me feel ready — at least for this day. I walk out the door, and notice the gardener, who is holding Mother’s latest purchase, a poodle with his hair cut in an odd pattern. Perhaps the gardener feels sorry for it, or perhaps it reminds him of the pruning he needs to do on the hedges.

However, I don’t cut my own pondering, much less a dog’s. As I walk along the street, I can’t help but notice a…