some thoughts from the busy buzz of my brain…

Let's pretend I haven't been away for six weeks, shall we? Let's pretend I wrote in here just yesterday, and that we're just picking up where I left off…?

Yeah?

Perfect :)

Now…where was I?

Ah. Yes. Walking outside.

It's winter here, but we're kind of lucky.

We get to spend winter in a world that usually looks like this.

I took these photos a week or so ago, on the day my girl and I walked from the beach to the new chocolateria downtown. It was HEAVEN. 

They had so many vegan options, from fruit fondue to churros to decadent hot chocolates. We ate way too much sugar, but then walked it off in the sunshine, through the park, by the sea. 

That was a really nice day.

Today, our world

credit

has looked mostly like this…

But that might be because it's been a really busy month and we just had a really busy weekend and lots of late nights, and we are really really tired.

PLUS, it was raining. It's almost never washed out and grey here. There are clouds all over where the sun should be. What's up with that?

It's funny because my son just got his braces tightened today, and he was in a bit of pain. And he was so tired and it was the start of another busy day, and he looked out at the clouds, and the grey sky and the rain, and he said, "At least the weather's good today."
My boy.

Speaking of my boy…!

He turned thirteen the other day. Wow. How can I be the mother of a thirteen year old? I remember that time of my life so clearly. I remember the music I listened to, and the days going by, and high school life, and…I think my boy might be happier than I was then. At least I think (and hope) he's having a spectacular life—filled with adventures, laughter, security and so much love. I hope he looks back on it and goes, Yeah, that was a good time.

He says I can't post photos of him any more without his approval. He says I can't call him a kid any more. Actually, I'll rephrase that: he has asked very politely for me not to call him a kid any more. And he wanders off to band these days without giving me a kiss. Sigh…!

So rather than show him at his birthday dinner holding tofu up to his eyeballs, and rather than show him juggling rings or balls or clubs, or show him blowing out the 13 candles that we stuck into a tub of soy ice cream…

here's a photo of his brand new, totally-adored juggling clubs. They have become an extension of him, so they kind of count.

I do love him so.


My son's birthday marked a year to the day since my friend Jennifer passed away.

I thought of her through the whole day…felt love, felt glad that I'd known her…then thought of her some more. I think of her all the time…she taught me some incredible things, and left us all with some beautiful gifts—strength and thankfulness being two of them. What a guide she's been in my life.

She'll always be a part of my boy's birthday… like she was a part of our wedding, and our lives, and that goes on; it hasn't changed.

I am so glad I got to know her and be her friend.


As for everything else?

I am thick in the writing of my novel. Like, so deep inside it it's all I want to do. I want to write when I wake up, when I'm driving my son and daughter to all their classes and things, when I'm cooking…pretty much all moments of the day. Some days I want to move to a writers monastery where all the monks have to do is sit in reverence before the page.

It's kind of hard to do anything else, kind of hard to think straight. I suppose that's the feeling of being in love, right? But with someone you can only see for minutes at a time, sometimes for longer stretches, but in the end someone or something always takes you away.

This sort of constant tearing at the heart can't be good for a person, can it? I'd break it off, but you see, we're tied together now.

The novel is the reason I haven't written here more; the novel is the reason the laundry doesn't get done and the groceries stay in their bags and why I'm late sometimes.

I would like to write more here,

but until this thing is Done, I can't…

so…

I'm thinking maybe I'll write less?

But more often.

Yeah. Yeah.

That's it—less is the new more!

Little posts, like little postcards… from the brain that's constantly thinking of towns and magic kingdoms and girls who steal moonlight, and what to do with the Queen, and why did she go there and should I turn her into a bird?

Could be kind of interesting :)

So I'll see if I can do that. Postcards. Just little ones…tiny colourful thoughts… like those shells you might pick up on the beach. That might be just right.

Love and peace to you all! :)