Nearby, even have an unfinished real post. But currently all tied up in knots over child and school.

read cat picture as SCREAMING, not yawning (though I am indeed tired.)

I've been quite busy lately with..It takes a village. As in it takes a village to get my son to do any of his school assignments. And this year there are all these big long term project thingies, history day, science fair. I am trying to readjust my mindset so that it stops being a continual source of stress. Because a stressed out me is no good for me, and no good for my son, or for my husband who I keep trying to get to take my place in the whole helping our son get from point A to point....um well actually maybe that should be from point D to point A.

A person who does manuscript editing for cash is speaking at my local library tonight. I went last year to hear her and I'm thinking she is just going to say the same things, but still I'm probably going to go. I need to get back on track with my writing and maybe this will help me to do so. I did make the tiniest bit of progress the night I was so sick I couldn't sleep at all. Just little things that I liked...a swan graveyard, a secret door leading to a hidden staircase, etc. little clues and riddles to decorate the story with. Little things certainly but for me emotionally helpful flourishes.

mood a bit..I don't know what word fits..
Yesterday was my birthday. I turned 39, probably a good time for self reflection and what not, but my stomach virus had derailed any deep thoughts into merely, "God, I never want to feel this awful again."

Yesterday I felt my energy coming back, felt more like myself. I took Cheese to an orthodontist for a second opinion concerning Invisalign (this one recommended braces instead). After school, I was a bit bummed that not only did my husband not take off for my birthday but he was also working till 10PM. But I was able to put butter on the raisin bagel I ate, that was festive. At about 9PM my best friend from college called to wish me a happy birthday and that meant a lot to me, and suddenly I was cheery and chatty. After I got ready for bed I did what I always do before getting into bed, I went in to check on my son. Sometimes I just look in on him, but often I still lean in to listen and make sure he is breathing. He sleeps with a CD (on repeat) now (a woman singing in Japanese) so I have to lean in close for a second to hear him. As I did this, he popped up abruptly (which he sometimes does, as a 'haha I'm awake!') and his head crashed into mine. I grabbed my nose, started whimpering sharply, and felt the blood coming down into my hand. I ran for the bathroom leaving a blood trail behind me. Blood dripping down my chin, all over the sink, my hands, running down to my elbow. Thank goodness Bob was home by then, he had been yelling, "what's wrong?" forever downstairs and now came up to find out. He ordered me to apply pressure to my nose, and tilt my head back slightly. I started to feel nauseous and faint (probably from some blood dripping into my stomach and because I was hyperventilating a bit). I got into bed, took tylenol, applied an ice pack to my face (which Bob told me to do, but which I had to go downstairs to get for myself). Oh how I wished I was sleeping. I couldn't figure out how I had come to find myself in such a situation. It took a lot of harassing Bob to get him to at all clean up the blood trail on the carpet, he kept saying he didn't know how to clean it, and trying to go back downstairs to watch television. I didn't fall asleep before 1am, I couldn't breathe through my nose, and my nose hurt, and after awhile I realized there was no rest till I washed the blood off of my elbow and foot. But I did finally sleep. Ah sleep. Sleep is great.

I was a bit disappointed that Cheese didn't ask me how I was this morning, he never even got out of bed last night when it happened. Though clearly an accident and not his fault, I still would have liked an 'I'm sorry." Whenever I have accidently hurt him I have always said, "Im sorry". He didn't wish me happy birthday yesterday either. Of course he did both after some serious prompting.

Anyway so here I am, no much swollen and only a bit black and blue along the left side of the bridge. I'm fine. But it was an odd sort of a birthday. And I am in an odd sort of a mood. You know being sick leading up to my birthday in a way I hadn't been sick in 11 years, and then the finale of closing that day like that. I live a rather careful slow paced life, and am not used to any sort of physical trauma, and though the damage is slight, for me it was indeed traumatic. I truly hope that last night was the finale, I am a bit concerned about what might be lying in wait round the corner.
Yes, I seem to have lost my pep, maybe that is it there upstairs staining the carpet, perhaps after I go up and truly clean it out, it will be abosorbed back into me.
Well the good new is, all this has distracted me from any trauma I might have felt over turning 39. It is just good to be here, be well, and not have any parts broken.

(Cheese says the discoloration doesn't really show because my face is rather multicolored already. I'm sorry to say he is right.)


now if I could just get some decent pancakes...I know my mood would brighten.

sick. At least finally well enough to go online for a couple of minutes. I hadn't been sick like this in 11 years. I can't remember ever having gone an entire day without eating anything like I did on Friday and I was too sick to sleep or watch tv. Miserable. Yesterday I had a small banana and a soft pretzel, and was able to watch movies :)!! Today my son, who has no other interest in the super bowl, keeps asking, "what are we going to make to eat for the super bowl!" Actually we were supposed to go out to eat to celebrate my birthday (which happens later this week), but my current food ambition doesn't go beyond hoping I can eat some diced pear and not regret it.
"What do you think, fish and chips or corn dogs?" He just asked me. Obviously I can't eat either. I just hope whatever my husband and son make the smell isn't nauseating, and that they clean up afterward. (my refusal, over the past two days, to clean up after either one of them has caused some tension between them, but eh..I have faith that they can survive one more day.)

Sunday night, I was flipping through channels, and stopped now and again on a PBS show about Iran

It was wonderful, it was beautiful to see. Always I see certain countries through the lens of politics, of troubles, in the news, always sand and guns. But this was different. Travel. Hills like red clay, separated by glowing green grass. Cream colored building taking on warm tints of coral. Food, architecture, culture, people. Beautiful people. Young people who were not saying anything about hate; warm, lovely, friendly, faces.

Now, I know the world is still the same as it was before, the politics, the troubles, they are not gone. But I thought of how nice it would be to only look through this lens. Just being interested in other people and how they live. What a beautiful world it would be. It did my heart good, made me happy, to see this country in a different way.
Sometimes the news drags me down, till it all seems war and strife, and that everyone hates us. I realize I too often let myself be fed a media diet of limited images. Yes there is war and strife, yes there are those that hate us; but there is also so much beauty. And mostly people are just people, wanting the same things, and wanting to harm no one.
Like my prayers at night, not limited prayers for one country, but prayers for all people everywhere. I want to say something that sounds a bit deeper, but the trouble is that Peggy Lee song keeps playing in my head, and I might as well just surrender to it,
"My wish for you, sweet happy life."


all images off wikipedia, except the last one, that was off a politcal wordpress.

starting of a brand new day

I'm still working on my New Year's resolutions, you know it's not good to jump into these things to quickly. I'm trying to decide what is really important to me, and what goes at the top getting the most time and energy and what gets fit in when it can. Last year I put writing on top and gained weight. I don't want to remove writing from the top spot (of personal pursuits). But I am not enjoying the way my body currently looks. I don't feel like me. I wish I could lose weight without making that the primary focus of my time and energy.
So far the feedback for my writing (Echo) has been scant. My mom did say some things about the prologue needing work, and my cousin did tell me that the grammar is very bad, "at times not really even writing sentences." I took those kind of hard. As I did the fact that none of them have made much progress with reading it. The energy for writing has really been knocked out of me, it has felt rather pointless to pursue. (Why bother? is the attitude I keep trying to ditch) But my husband not known previously as a pep talker, has certainly decided to be one now. He has told me to keep going forward, keep writing, telling me he likes my writing, and that the areas that need improvement, are areas, with work, that can without a doubt be improved. I say, "But why spend my life pursuing a dream that can never be, it is pointless." And he says, "What other way is there to spend a life?" And then I think of that, what other way would I want to spend my time. To let go of the dream, to pursue nothing, is certainly not an improvement. I wouldn't like such emptiness. One can of course change one's dream and pursue something else. But he is right in knowing that I am not at that point yet. I am still only at the beginning of this journey. I must fail a lot more before I know whether or not I can succeed. And I might as well finish the stories I have started that I long to see all the way through.
I wish I wasn't taking it so hard, this lack of feedback, and then a few negative words, but handing someone Echo is like handing them a fragment of my soul. Dramatic words I know, but it feels entirely true. My other storeis are part of me too, but not in the same way, not to the same degree. I knew it needed work certianly, I asked for feedback to help me improve it, but they are finding things wrong with the parts I thought were fine. And no one seems to be connecting with it, feeling and seeing any part of it as meaningful or beautiful. So that is the source of my sadness.
So I am trying to move forward with the writing but I am doing so on wobbly legs. On the positive side, I am really touched by my husband. I mean perhaps when married it should be obvious that one loves the other, but I haven't truly felt it so, merely so, but not deeply so. But in this, that he didn't say, "Yeah you suck, why are you wasting your time, and our time. You should be learning how to cook better, and looking after us more. Go get a job outside the house to bring in more money." I have felt keenly his love for me. He has validated my pursuit of a dream, knowing it may bring him nothing, and even take time away from him. He has validated it knowing I long to pursue it, knowing how much it means to me. There have been times when I would have, and have, fought for this privilege, for time, mine. But not lately. I have stood before him more or less defeated, feeling I had no right, to take such time as my own, to sit alone for hours with pen and page. Sadly at this point I felt, I feel, I need permission, and I have been amazed that he has given it to me. Not reluctantly, not under coercion, but freely, abundantly, heaping it on me like a directive. With a little bit of tone that I would ever leave the question of pursuing my dreams up to the opinions of other people.
God am I grateful.

I don't have my new year's resolutions down yet, I'm still forming them in my head, but I do know that writing wont be pushed down around the edges. Not this year. I must finish the other two stories.

We have a temporary house guest. We named her Poppy Strudel.

Sebastian keeps begging for just a little taste.
She likes to sit in her food dish while she dines.

She is soon to be joined by 5 brown mice, if we can ever find such, so far we can only find white mice with red eyes which I sweetly call possessed or evil mice. Why the rodent invasion? Science fair project. Which involves having them run on a wheel(with a generator) to see if they can generate enough power to light a night light or some such.
I've read Robo hamsters can go up to 20 miles a night on there wheels and watching her I believe it.

Here she is in her litter box. Yes! A hamster litter box. She loves it! No she doesn't go to the bathroom in it (like the box claims) but she finds it makes a great tunnel and she likes the way the little balls feel under her feet.

I have nothing to do with the science project, as it is way over my head, my job is care (aka clean-up) and feeding of critters. And I have no intention of keeping any of them (though I do find Poppy quite cute).

I do hope we are able to find them suitable homes after the project is completed.

by the bye,
I am having a little bit of trouble picking a theme that shows all the type. And since I can't figure out how to adjust the color within a theme, I'm choosing a theme based on text visibility.

I don't know if anyone of my family members has made progress reading Echo; I think not. And the research for Swans is slow going, as I am not at all enjoying reading The History of Private Life, so far. It seems to take a ton of words to say anything, I just want info, short and sweet, not ideas. Usually I like ideas, but not when researching.