Monday, August 13, 2018

Sunday, August 12, 2018


I have lost mine: have you seen it?
It has been very difficult for me to find a regular schedule in this post-Task era. Because of the confluence of various circumstances and activities, I'd been working all day, every day and every evening, for nearly eight months straight by the time The Task was finished. Now I don't know what to do with myself. I don't really want to fold laundry or cook (although previously those were welcome diversions from work). I have read a couple of books, which were satisfactory; and started a few others that were less so. I have used my coloring books and played my piano. I have sat outside in the evening twilight, just because.

I don't know if I am sad, or just still drained, or both.

There might be more -- the minutiae of being pecked by one thousand ducks -- but I am Too Tired to parse or write about it.

One day at a time. Things will get better.

Friday, August 10, 2018


Tonight's earworm: Iris (Goo Goo Dolls).

I am currently listening to 80s and 90s hits on Pandora, and this cycled through. It especially appeals to me because it begins with the word "and" -- breaking a grammatical rule. Plus, it is a call to be seen and understood. And isn't that, ultimately, what we all want?

I hope you enjoy.

Thursday, August 9, 2018

Tuesday, August 7, 2018

Last of 50

Herself speaks.

Today is the last day of my 50th year.

It's been a long year.

A year ago, I did not look forward to turning 50. It was such a dreaded milestone. And then, suddenly, there I was. And it was OK, in its own way.

Two-thirds of my 50th year was consumed by The Task - application, preparation, and The Task itself. By the time I receive the results, it will have been a full 11 months of time, that will forever be associated with 50. Let us hope that it, like 50, becomes a thing of the past.

This evening, as I sat alone with the small dogs on the back patio, I thought about goals for the year ahead. What will I do? What creative endeavors will I attempt? How much camping can I squeeze into the year? How will I tame the beast of loneliness that lurks in the corners?

How will I learn to handle with Grace, the Things over which I have no control?  How do I meet the needs of others, without giving away too many pieces of myself in the process?  How do I learn to ask for what I Need (and to care for myself when asking goes unanswered)? And how do I mold my soul to be as self-sufficient as possible? These seem like complex tasks. Yet, I have all the time in the world -- each and every day -- to figure it all out.

If I had only one birthday wish, though: what I want, most of all, is that the Offspring flourish in the upcoming year.

What will 51 bring? We shall see.

Monday, August 6, 2018

Hold The Line

Current earworm: Hold the Line (Toto).

Ah, the 1980s. Good music.

Some things never change.

Sunday, August 5, 2018

Ten Days Later

It's been ten days now since The Task was finished. Life has not yet returned to normal, though it is on the way. I have read two books for pleasure, played my piano, obtained Ruth the fish, and returned to work.

(Did I mention that I took a leave of absence from my employment to prepare for The Task? Work held down the fort for me while I was absent. It will benefit Work in the long run for me to have met The Task, provided that I am successful, so it was in everyone's best interest to help me accomplish the preparation needed for The Task.)

I still dream about The Task.

The first few nights were difficult: dreams that were flashbacks to the content of The Task, to questions and failures and unknowns. Time attenuates all things, though, and now the dreams are more factual. Less nauseating. This all shall pass, in due course.

I wondered how others who have faced The Task manage this post-Task phase. Upon my quiet inquiry, three different coworkers affirmed to me that they too had flashbacks to the Task for some time afterward. I feel better, knowing that we all can get beyond what needs to be done, and move forward.

I am still tired, physically and mentally. Need more aftercare.

I'll do what I can. One step at a time.

Saturday, August 4, 2018


Post-Task pet acquisition: this female veiltail betta. 

Her name is Ruth, after Ruth Bader Ginsburg. (Ruth Betta Ginsburg? Ruth Bader Finsburg? Ruth Betta Finsburg.)

I would have liked to have guinea pigs, or possibly some other kind of mammal - I do best tending to furry critters. A solitary, low-maintenance creature was best, though. 

Ruth shall do. She's lovely.

Thursday, August 2, 2018


Received the results from Monday's testing. All is stable. I'll go back in six months.


Wednesday, August 1, 2018


My parents continue to downsize their possessions as they move house. I received a mysterious blanket in the mail. "It was your father's blanket from his carriage. I thought you should have it, since you are very much your father's daughter."

What a lovely compliment.

Monday, July 30, 2018


Perhaps it was unwise of me to schedule a mammogram for so close to the end of The Task; a bit more mental preparation time would have been helpful. Or perhaps it was actually good timing, as I had limited opportunity to contemplate the various unlikely-yet-terrible possibilities. Either way, it needed to be done, as I was slightly past the six-month mark for reevaluation. 

The mammogram itself is Old Hat at this point; slightly disagreeable, but certainly tolerable in its brevity. The ultrasound is a bit more problematic, for it is lengthy and the physical pressure is really rather uncomfortable. Plus there is the difficulty of where to put my eyes: I can look at the little screen of the machine as the technician presses, types, clicks and clicks, and labels the images; or I can look away, lest the foggy black-and-white view give me a premature or false suggestion that there may in fact be a Problem.

I chose to look away. I will find out the results in a few days -- no need to guess at what I do not yet know.

Fingers crossed, that all is stable once more.

Sunday, July 29, 2018


I am once more rejoining society after The Task. The first stop: reconnecting with the people whom I have neglected while preparing for and undergoing The Task. I visited my lovely in-laws for lunch,  had dinner with Beloved Husband and Offspring the First and Second, and spoke with Cherished Friend by Skype. Lovely. 

How fortunate am I, to have these people as my People. They accepted my absence and my failure to look beyond my own needs during this difficult time, and kindly listened to my decompression when I returned, still reeling from the arduousness of The Task. Thanks to their help, I will be able to go back to Life As Usual in due course. I look forward to it.

Bless them.

Saturday, July 28, 2018


I am on the road to recovering from The Task. It will take a while, to be sure: completing The Task was much like fighting a Dementor (or, perhaps, even like taking on He-who-must-not-be-named himself). I am drained and fatigued. I feel as though a part of my soul has been squashed. I cannot bear silence, and even solitude is tricky. Yet I am not good company right now.

Self-care continues: I purchased a new Blu-ray boxed set of all of the Harry Potter movies, as well as several junky novels. I perused my cookbooks and went to the grocery store. I pulled out additional piano music. And Offspring the Second came back from adventures in other parts of the world, and it is nice to see him, and he has good stories to tell.

Step by step, the flashbacks to The Task will dissipate, and Life will resume again -- until sometime in November, we will learn whether I was successful at The Task, or whether I must do battle again.

Fingers crossed.

Friday, July 27, 2018

The Task Complete

It is finished.
I will not know the results for several months. Yet, for now, I am Done.

Today's song: Alive (Sia). 

Thursday, July 26, 2018

Wednesday, July 25, 2018

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Monday, July 23, 2018


The Task, T minus one day.

Today's song: Unstoppable (Sia). 

Sunday, July 22, 2018

Going Dark/The Task

Herself speaks.

I have prepared the posts for this week, including this one, in advance: for this is the week of The Task. I will likely be going dark with all social media, and, in fact, with all communication with people outside. Focus is the name of the game.

Wish me luck, gentle readers, and think of me. I will be back after The Task is done.

Friday, July 20, 2018


I really have been grateful for the company of these two small souls while I have been preparing for The Task.

Thursday, July 19, 2018


Tonight's earworm: Praying (Kesha).

I love this song, not because it is appropriate to my life at the moment in any way (for it is not), but because of the strength of her performance and the meaningfulness of her lyrics.

We need more visible, strong women, like Kesha.

I hope you enjoy.

Saturday, July 14, 2018

Fun with Small Fry

Offspring the Third was practicing casting with his fishing rod in the back yard, and Tiny Dog was quite interested in pursuing the weight on the line.

Friday, July 13, 2018


Tonight's earworm: Daddy Lessons (The Dixie Chicks, with Beyonce). 

While usually I like songs in particular because of their lyrics, I enjoy this one especially because of the energy of the performance. When I am flagging (as I am now, as The Task wears me thin), a little bit of energy is helpful.

I hope you enjoy.

Thursday, July 12, 2018


Elderly dog contemplates the indignity of having his infected ears treated by the vet. He most certainly did not enjoy the experience. I am glad that he will be feeling better soon.

Poor baby  - he is temporarily even more hard of hearing than usual. But he is sleeping much more contentedly now. Good boy, my buddy. 

Image may contain: dog

Tuesday, July 10, 2018


Offspring the Third was extraordinarily brave today, getting an ingrown nail fixed. He has always been very pain sensitive, since he was a baby, so I knew this was difficult for him. He powered through, though, and now his toe will feel much better.

I am very proud of him. 

Monday, July 9, 2018

Out of Africa

I'd forgotten how much I enjoy the soundtrack to Out of Africa. 

I hope you enjoy, too.

Sunday, July 8, 2018

Break the Tedium

Friendship is the source of the greatest pleasures, and without friends even the most agreeable pursuits become tedious
-- Thomas Aquinas

Friday, July 6, 2018

Alea iacta est

Yet in opinions look not always back,--
Your wake is nothing, mind the coming track;
Leave what you've done for what you have to do;
Don't be "consistent," but be simply true.

― Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

The Sloth Hole, 2010

Thursday, July 5, 2018

From The Heart

Offspring the Third has been struggling a bit lately. Always tender of heart, he does not fare well when he feels that other people disrespect him or do not appreciate his efforts. And so I got him a small gift - a stainless steel heart - to remind him that he is loved and valued. It is, of course, anatomically correct, because he is a young Man, after all, and sentimental gifts should still be a wee bit Manly. 

Do not let the coldness of the world or the callousness of other people bring you down, Offspring the Third. You brighten your corner of the world, whether you realize it or not. 

Tuesday, July 3, 2018


Tonight's earworm: Glitter in the Air (P!nk).

This song reminds me of night and wind and back roads and a brief moment of Freedom. Perhaps someday I can capture its essence in a moment again.

Monday, July 2, 2018

Sunday, July 1, 2018


Some days simply lay on you like stones.
― Patrick Rothfuss, The Slow Regard of Silent Things

Saturday, June 30, 2018

True Story

I feel as though I should just send this cartoon to various people. 

Thursday, June 28, 2018


Herself speaks.

My parents are downsizing, and periodically they send a box of miscellany from the family basement to me. It is like a little Christmas, every time -- what could it be in the box? I save them for Offspring the Third to open, because he enjoys opening packages, and surprises.

Today's package included a very special item: the blanked that my grandmother embroidered for my father, while she was pregnant with him. This was back in the 1930s. There is a lovely flowered border, surrounding a chubby, one-socked, blond baby. It is in excellent condition, given that it is over eighty years old now. 

What a treasure. 

Wednesday, June 27, 2018

Survival Mode

Herself speaks.

I have abandoned all efforts to do small things that I enjoy: cooking, playing the piano, reading for pleasure. Taking care of All The Minutiae. Sending care packages. Writing for pleasure. All is in abeyance, for now.

And I am OK with this, for now.

The Task weighs heavily. The best I can do now, for my own peace of mind, is to plug away at it, taking short breaks here and there to digest that day's preparations.

I've put all emotions on a shelf. I'll retrieve them later, when The Task is done.

It is fine.

I know that when I am finished, though, that I will be Very Tired.

Stay the course with me, my stalwart readers. We shall get there. 

Monday, June 25, 2018

Bird Redux

Herself speaks.

I am a bit at a loss, my stalwart readers. I am on the edge of being overwhelmed by The Task (though I hang on, by the skin of my teeth). I have wanted to write about several things that have been on my mind, but I have not had time, nor stamina, to do so. Alas. 

Right now, if I could, I would write about a Possibility that might have been, but turned out not to be. Though it would have been lovely if the Possibility had in fact come to pass, it was best that an alternate path besides the Possibility was taken. I lack the fortitude at the moment to parse the matter fully - and besides, it was not my Possibility, and so it is not truly my story to tell (even though I would have derived happiness from the Possibility had it come to fruition). There is alternate happiness to be found in the different paths from the Possibility, though. We shall wait and see what the future brings, and hope for the very best, as always. 

Picture copyright 2017, 2018, Mediocria Firma. Used with gratitude.

Friday, June 22, 2018


If you look closely, you can see the wee little snake that graced the back yard a few nights ago. If I spoke parseltongue, I would tell the snake that it is welcome here, for as long as it likes.

Thursday, June 21, 2018

Walk On

Tonight's earworm: Walk On (U2). Because we walk on.

And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off
And if your glass heart should crack
And for a second you turn back
Oh no, be strong

Walk on, walk on
What you got they can't steal it
No, they can't even feel it
Walk on, walk on

Wednesday, June 20, 2018


Today's word: Saudade. (n)

From Wikipedia: Saudade is the recollection of feelings, experiences, places, or events that once brought excitement, pleasure, well-being, which now triggers the senses and makes one live again. It can be described as an emptiness, like someone (e.g., one's children, parents, sibling, grandparents, friends, pets) or something (e.g., places, things one used to do in childhood, or other activities performed in the past) that should be there in a particular moment is missing, and the individual feels this absence. It brings sad and happy feelings altogether, sadness for missing and happiness for having experienced the feeling.

Monday, June 18, 2018

True Words

It often seems like adulthood is all about teaching you how you don’t need love, that you can subsist wholly on your own stamina and inner sense of self-worth. - Anne Nahm

She writes wittily, beautifully, poignantly. Go read her. You will enjoy. 

Sunday, June 17, 2018

Whimsical Llama

Spotted at the local hobby shop. If I had a rustic cabin somewhere, I would install this odd piece of decor in some obscure corner, so that each time I came across it, I could contemplate again how nifty llamas are.

Saturday, June 16, 2018

Friday, June 15, 2018

Not Nearly As Dire

As I prepare for The Task, I am reminded of Gesthemane from Jesus Christ Superstar. While The Task is not nearly so dire, and I do not profess to be anything more than a speck of dust in this Universe, the lyrics do seem a wee bit fitting.

I only want to say
If there is a way
Take this cup away from me
For I don't want to taste its poison
Feel it burn me
I have changed
I'm not as sure as when we started
Then, I was inspired
Now, I'm sad and tired
Listen, surely I've exceeded expectations...

Thursday, June 14, 2018

To The Woman

A ladyfriend posted this to Facebook. It is lovely, and wrenching, and summons so many of the feelings that I could feel, if I were not immersed in preparation for The Task. When The Task is done, perhaps I shall find more of this poet's works. It would do my soul good. 

...ripped out the stitches in your heart
because why not...

Tuesday, June 12, 2018


Today's somewhat guilty pleasure: Malibu, by Miley Cyrus.

There is something sweet and simple about her lyrics, and something lovely in her comfort with herself and her body in the video. I wonder what it's like to feel that way?

We hope you enjoy.

Sunday, June 10, 2018


As I prepare for The Task, the small dogs follow me around lovingly. I move their blanket from place to place so they will always be comfortable nearby.

Saturday, June 9, 2018


As I work toward The Task, tonight's earworm: Deeper and Deeper, by Ben Harper.

Friday, June 8, 2018


Nine years ago, I arrived. 

Thank you, my stalwart readers, for walking this journey with me.

Thursday, June 7, 2018

Old Nassau

Herself speaks.

I am still processing last weekend's travels, during which I went back to my alma mater for the first time in over two decades. It was marvelous, and overwhelming, and full of familiar-unfamiliar surroundings and people whom I was sure I would remember if I could just reach in and remove the thirty years' worth of life since we last saw one another.

I was so pleased to see some of these people, who were once critical and colorful threads in the tapestry of my college experience. The passage of time rendered my delight absolutely pure:  there was nothing complex, nothing sorrowful -- just joy at their presence. I wish them so much happiness.

I was surprised, too, at the stories some classmates recounted about me. I have always considered myself to be somewhat invisible: backstage, flying under the radar. Helping but not standing out - that's what I do. Perhaps, though, I had more impact than I thought I had.

It's both strange and touching to know I am remembered so fondly.

There were some extremely bittersweet components to the reunion. The hardest part, I think, was being in a place where there were once so many options, so many possibilities. Now certain roads are no longer travel-able, and many doors are closed. Choices made. Responsibilities accumulated. Years gone by. Thus it is.

I am so far from where I began. I do not regret the path I have taken. Still, in a way I miss my young self, full of hope and optimism, with no other obligations besides to learn. What bliss that was. How little I appreciated it then.

Live, and learn.

Sunday, June 3, 2018

So Much To Process

I may take a short hiatus, gentle readers.  Nothing is wrong; just many Thoughts to Think. I shall be back. 

Saturday, June 2, 2018

Thursday, May 31, 2018

Tuesday, May 29, 2018


For those who grieve today, a classic, sung by John Legend.

Monday, May 28, 2018

The Personal Grief of Climate Change

Herself speaks.

There was historic flooding in Ellicott City, Maryland -- for the second time in two years. This incident would normally have been merely a blip on the whole Terrible Climate Change radar. This time, though, it is a small, yet devastating tragedy.

The one missing man is the best friend of one of my Facebook ladies. Hope fades, as he has been missing for twenty-four hours, and was last seen being swept away by the floodwaters.

Gone. Her Best Friend.

The kind of friend who, despite living several states away from her, still texted and/or spoke to her every day. The kind whom she leaned upon when life was hard, who provided support and encouragement and humor in her daily existence. The kind who is warm-hearted and generous of self. The kind who will leave a gaping hole in the community in which he lived, and an un-mend-able gash in her soul.

I cannot even fathom the depth of her grief. This is the sickening kind of horror that plays into the worst of fears: to have someone who is a piece of your heart, snatched away from you. Suddenly. No warning. No chance to say goodbye. No chance to say "I love you" or "Thank you" or "save a seat for me, wherever you go."

I am so sorry, my Facebook friend. Godspeed to your fine friend. My heart is with you.

EDITED 5/29/2018 TO ADD:

They have found his body. Rest in peace, gallant friend of my Facebook lady. We will do what we can to bring her consolation.

Friday, May 25, 2018


Offspring the Third has been enjoying perambulations in the desert in the evenings. He searches for all the small creatures, and photographs them. Nifty.

Copyright 2018, Offspring 3. Used with permission. 

Thursday, May 24, 2018


A friend who is far away is sometimes much nearer than one who is at hand. Is not the mountain far more awe-inspiring and more clearly visible to one passing through the valley than to those who inhabit the mountain? - Kahlil Gibran

Herself speaks.

Cherished Friend stopped by, momentarily, and it was lovely to see him.

He was traveling for a week, and chose to leave and return to  this desert land through my local airport. He was here for an evening, and then off to the airport in the wee hours of the next morning; and then a week later, back for a night, and then off to his corner of this desert land in the wee hours of the next morning. I had the pleasure of of providing a couple of meals and houseroom. While he may have had certain misgivings about being an imposition, nothing could be further from the truth. He is always welcome here, however briefly.

It is easy for me, particularly as a woman, to get lost in the appellations I have gathered: relational titles, explaining who I am in relation to other people. Wife, mother, daughter, employee. The joys and honors of these roles -- and there are many, especially for wife-hood and motherhood -- come alongside duties and obligations which form part and parcel of the relationships. And that is well and good, and I consider myself fortunate to bear these roles.

There is something different in friendship -- an entirely alternate dimension.

In friendship, I have the opportunity to be just myself: not someone's mother, nor someone's spouse. nor someone's child, nor someone's teacher or lawyer or underwater basket-weaver. Just a person, who willingly spends time with another person, because we are Friends. How did this come to pass? I do not know. Yet I am grateful that it has. For it is delightfully simple. And miraculous, every time.

And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.- Kahlil Gibran

Wednesday, May 23, 2018


Herself speaks.

Today is the fourth anniversary of the Unmooring. This anniversary crept up unexpectedly because of all the many things going on at the moment (including preparation for The Task). It is good that the day is already upon us and will leave shortly, because there was no time for anticipatory sadness.

There is less grief now; the loss has attenuated over time. (For which I am grateful.) In fact, I do not want any longer to linger over the anniversary, as nothing is to be gained except for remembrance of what has been lost. Right now, I must look ahead. Perhaps that is the best way to move onward.

On I go.

Monday, May 21, 2018

Places That Seem Very Relaxing

Picture copyright 2018, Mediocria Firma. Used with gratitude.

Sunday, May 20, 2018

Like A Postcard

Offspring the Second is in such a beautiful corner of the world right now. 

Saturday, May 19, 2018


The day after Offspring the Third came home, he made hummingbird nectar and put out the feeder. Less than twenty-four hours later, the hummingbirds arrived. 

I think they were waiting for him.

Friday, May 18, 2018


Herself speaks.

I am on the cusp of full-time, hard-core preparation for The Task. I have finished the pre-pre preparation packet, and commenced the pre-preparation packet. Regular full-on preparation (more a Project than a packet) begins Monday, and continues for two months.

I am currently in a state of horror at all I do not know, and am thoroughly dismayed by the Task before me. Those who know me in person, have told me, "you are so smart, you can do this, no problem." I am grateful for their assurance, but in truth, no amount of being 'smart' is going to compensate for the highly specific knowledge I need to cram into my head and regurgitate in the proper way at the right time. 

I am terrified of disappointing not only myself, but all the people who have every confidence that I can surmount this challenge. I want to cry. But I do not have time for that. 

I do have some hope that work of preparation will relieve some of my concern. Time will tell.

And now: I begin. 

Thursday, May 17, 2018


I love you" sounds best spoken in quiet acts of kindness. 
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons

Herself speaks.

My recent short trip was to points northeastern-ly, to collect Offspring the Third upon the end of his first year of college. Huzzah! Congratulations, Offspring the Third, on your successful navigation of this first and ever-so-important step in life.

Though I do not mention it often, a decade ago Offspring the Third was diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum. He has made tremendous strides -- he has learned to understand people and how they work, and in fact has a significantly better grasp on the motivations of others than I tend to do. He has actively stepped out of his comfort zone on many occasions, managed to pick himself up when things don't go according to plan, and befriended others. He has kept his kind and tender heart, despite the harshness of the world. Bravo, Offspring the Third.

It was clear when I arrived at his dorm room -- based on the level of disarray of his possessions and amount of detritus accumulated --  that he was close to the end of his patience and tolerance for the new, difficult and strange environment that is college. He went off to take his last exam, and I set to packing up. After initially feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the task, I formulated a plan, carved out some space, and managed to get things mostly in order by the time he was done with his test. We finalized, crammed everything into our respective vehicles, and after a short but peaceful night in a nearby hotel, drove the six hours home the next day.

When we arrived home, he looked more exhausted than ever. I took care of moving his bins of belongings into the corner where they will live until they can be sorted, made sure he had food, responded to his need for inclusion in mundane conversation. Eventually, he settled in, though I can see that it will still take him several days to unwind. Welcome home, my Man-Child.

It has been said to me by more than one adult man (and it is always men, never women), that life is hard and he needs to do things for himself. He needs to figure things out alone. Needs to handle things for himself. "Suck it up."

Well: yes, and no.

Yes, I know that life is hard. He managed, and quite marvelously given his unique view of the world, to navigate all kinds of complex, anxiety-inducing situations over the course of his life and especially this past freshman year, with no more than an occasional supportive conversation by phone or by text. He has figured out all kinds of things alone. Handled matters. Sucked it up when necessary. This I know, from the talks he and I have had. I am immeasurably proud.

That being said, it is not my job to remind him that life is hard and that we all must go it alone. He's aware of that -- how many times has he said to me, "Well, I knew no one else would take care of it for me, so I figured it out for myself"?  More times than I can count. It makes me a little sad, even though I know that it is a bitter truth he has learned.

What is my job, is to be Haven.

Yes, he *could* pack and move all his bins of possessions alone; he could fend for himself in all matters large and small. Yet while I am here, he does not *have* to do so. As long as I am able, I will lend a hand. I will get him a beverage. I will help with the laundry. I will provide supportive words. And I will reassure him of his value and his worth as a human being on this planet. Life is hard, and if I can shine a light or ease a burden for him, I will do so, always.

I will do so, too, for his siblings as well. Children of my body, central in my heart -- this is the best I can do for you. It is my great hope that the warmth of these moments of care will carry you onward in the cold world, when you must go forth alone. 

Wednesday, May 16, 2018

And Away

Offspring the Second is off on an exciting adventure -- two months in a different country, with a different currency and a different language. I put aside my worries about his health and safety and well-being, and hope that he has a magnificent time. 

Sunday, May 13, 2018

How Dark

Tonight's earworm: How Dark Is Gone (Ben Harper).

We hope you enjoy.

Thursday, May 10, 2018


Herself speaks.

I have finished one Giant Task. It is a task I do enjoy, despite it requiring a fairly large time commitment with carefully-planned increments, and it is a bittersweet ending. Nevertheless, I am relieved. And so very tired.

I spent the day organizing my desk at Work, to try to lay out my next projects. And on the horizon, is a bigger Task yet. A daunting Challenge.  I will begin that in earnest within the next two weeks.

For now, though: the laundry awaits. 

Monday, May 7, 2018


Ah, to sit in the sun by the side of the water. That would be lovely.