Spooky things happened the eighth of July at my house. I had a phishing incident that crashed my computer, so I am writing from my public library, (bless their very souls those librarians!!!)
I am trying to figure out what to do...
So, know that in between painting my house and hundreds of shutters and gardening like a happy, mad, woman for wonderful friends, taking another graduate course, and juggling four lovely children's needs, I am going to now have to save a computer that I desperately need for my classes, teaching, and life... sigh...
I need some "love letters" in my life (metaphorically speaking)
just feeling a bit pouty.no just alot pouty.
Notice I refuse to capitalize the first words of those sentences, for I WILL NOT give them much power.
I just wonder about little gliches. These things are not the big things. They are not the things that tear a woman down, no. I just wonder about them. I find it all so odd to see things the way I do, sometimes. I know that I don't have time to work at this moment on the computer, even at home. I know that I am doing the best that I can and filling the rough spots with hugs from lovely children and reading love letters from Georgia O'Keefe to Alfred in My Faraway One, feeling the sunshine smile on me as I weed to make someone smile when they look out from their wheelchair and see color and order. Those things fill in the rough spots. Friends' calls about lots of fluffy bits and the not so easy parts of living and being a woman, these fill moments. I want to teach, to be part of children's lives that find life harder than others and at moments, despair that there will never be a full time job for me in that respect.
I feel pricked at, at times, told scary stories, at times, forgotten, at times.
But, these things are not real... for I choose what is real and what my faerytale says. Others play their roles, are necessary to the plot, add some dynamic (not always understood, but necessary, I suppose) that make me stronger, vibrant, appreciative and alive. I just put in my Ramones' tape in the van and blare to Joey singing, "Too Tough to Die" and all the anthems I loved growing up and smile at the roses that fall from hardship so that they can lay in my Great Grandmother's green candy dish for me to enjoy.
I would not choose despair for anything.
I know what that looks like, been there, done that a long time ago... this time around is my gift to cherish.
"The world is full of people who will go their Whole lives and not actually Live one day. She did not intend on being one of them." ~Leigh Standley
Art and photography above by me, Amy Sperry Faldet, faerytale lover, love letter reader, life cherisher, hugger, passionate lady, yep, that's me.