This week was full, and continues to be so today.

I was gifted almost eight hours to myself yesterday. Children at school or with grandparents and spouse, in an unusual turn of events working outside the home. This meant silence and opportunity to write uninterrupted.

Of course, as I have not had the luxury of uninterrupted regular writing time, the process was slow and painful. My brain and fingers kept jumping about, undisciplined as a sixth grader.

I wrote drafts of several projects, some of which I may allow to graduate and go on to other fields. Some need some more tutelage. Some need detention.

I struggled with my own lack of habit and with finding an angle, finding my voice, for each. That will come. Nothing is due immediately, which allows time for ideas to ping pong while I take on more mundane tasks.

Today is dreary. Rain and storms expected again all day, bringing unseasonably cool weather. The air, however, is thick. My skull pounds from the changes in pressure, as skulls do. The school’s annual carnival is today, and I am part of the team to help make it happen. It will most likely shift to an inside locale, and while my greatest challenge will be the noise and the palpable sweat level in the air, the poor children will not be able to run about outside and fully enjoy the decadent, over-the-top rides that have become a part of their early summer since we’ve moved to this suburb.

Tonight we celebrate a family member’s graduation. Special moments ahead, offering opportunity to pause and wonder how time has gone so quickly for each of us. I write that and look up at flowering plants outside my window, which seem to have bloomed overnight after a spectacularly late arrival this spring. They are not shy, and I hope them hearty enough to survive the 50 degree cold snap today and tonight. They are glorious little suns and stars, substituting for a blue sky today.

’tis the season for bittersweets.


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