Snow Globe

Today was one of those days that makes you want to capture each scene and trap it in a snow globe: winter play, cookie baking, sleeping in, reading, goofing off.  Days like these both exhilarate and frighten me since underneath it all I feel shaky like the whole pretty snow globe is built on tooth pick legs. Beneath the joy is so much grief and fear, but I worked hard today (harder than I should have to) to let that go and "live in the moment," as they say.  

My friend Sarah said that December is the month to feel all the feelings, and it is true.  Every little thing feels so tender and momentous and wonderful and rocky all at the same time.

It's exhausting maneuvering these ship-swaying December waves of emotion.  These one moment excited-and-giggly and the next moment teary-and-scared feelings. 

I miss my mother and my sister who live far away beyond mountain ranges and states.  I miss my deceased father and grandmothers who live beyond even the sea and sky now.  I miss my far-away friends who are everywhere but here in my tiny little town. I miss friends who are only streets away but who have grown as distant as if they are in foreign lands. 

But despite this heart-sore missing of so many people I do recognize that I am surrounded by love.  My good, kind, sweet friends and family, near and far, shower me with light and affection, and I know I am blessed and lucky.  I want to push this feeling of happy gratitude to the front of my life and to feel those feelings more deeply than those that pull me down with sadness.

I try.  God knows I try.  And sometimes, on days like today, I win this little battle, and I will crawl into bed contended and warm. Tonight I will sleep the sleep of the fortunate, and I will dream of the sea and the mountains and I will taste sea salt on my tongue and smell redwood in the air.  I will wake in the morning to the sound of the snow plow and ready myself for another day.

The Light Ekphrastic

I have a couple of poems in The Light Ekphrastic today.  Please head over and check it out.  I worked with the amazing photographer, Lynne Parks.

How to Clean Your Sink

9:00 AM

Tell yourself that you will write for one hour straight, no interruptions.  It is your Writing Day after all.

Make a cup of tea.  There may be grease and grime and some weird food-stuff stuck on the tea kettle.  Clean it.

As you wash the tea kettle you will see that the sink is gross.  Gross as in you need to get out an old toothbrush and the bleach gross.

Since you clearly cannot write while your sink sits in the kitchen all dirty and gross you must postpone the beginning of your Writing Day. This will only take a minute anyway.

To make sink cleaning more “literary” you should find a lecture by Lynda Barry on You Tube to listen to while scrubbing. 

While Barry talks about “creative concentration” and how to transform images and memory into stories run your paper towel covered finger nail around the metal edge of your old 1950s sink.  It’s really the only way to get out the grime.

Your buddy Lynda will mention “imaginary friends" and "imaginary enemies” and you will cry thinking of an old friend who has dumped you unceremoniously and unkindly.  Not to worry, tears bring up the shine on the porcelain.

Use the toothbrush on the faucet and handles.  Wipe off the soap pump.

Your tea is now cold. Stick it in the microwave to revive it.

Do you know what goes well with tepid tea?  Pickles.  And cheese.

After the pickle-tea-cheese snack return to the sink.  Buff it dry with a clean rag.

While you have the rag and toothbrush out you might as well clean the counters, too.  And the stove.

Have another piece of cheese.

Scratch off the words “Writing Day” on your calendar. There is always next week. 

10:00 AM