Monday as Springboard

   Greetings you sweet, creative, thinky people! How has your fresh new week started out? Are you off and running, pouring your momentum and energy into every task and whistling while you work? Or are you dragging a little, running a bit rougher than you would like? Or maybe somewhere in between? I don't mind saying that I hit the ground running today, both literally and figuratively.

   After a few days last week spent actively resisting sadness and then mindlessly eating too many bowls of indulgent pasta, today was a healthier, happier day. I traded sweet notes with my baby girl on Saturday, her seventeenth birthday, and now she and I are looking forward to some time alone, hopefully very soon. I have tucked a few long, sweaty runs under my belt; and this coming week is filled with unusual and very exciting opportunities.  (I'll be sharing some of this with you!)

   

   On top of it all, our weather in Oklahoma has shifted ever so slightly. The late evenings are cool, and the early mornings are downright crisp. Our afternoons have been sunny and warm enough to collect a few rays on my bare legs and shoulders, but they are no longer murderously hot. These are the sublime days. The days between summer and autumn, the days when at any moment you can turn off the air conditioner and shove open every window in the house. The days when horses nap with their bellies open to the sky instead of hiding beneath the cooling shelter of cypress trees. Even the herbs are responding to our friendlier atmosphere...

   So I'm feeling pretty good. Great, actually. Despite some recent disappointments in life and ongoing challenges in several areas, Handsome and I feel so blessed. I am more grateful than ever for good friends who care and who offer nourishing little bits of wisdom and encouragement when it is needed most. For others who laugh with us so hard that we forget ever not laughing. I am so grateful for this constant river of inspiration that somehow speeds along inevitable grief. Life at the moment is bursting at the seams with opportunities for growth, improvement, and comfort. Do you feel that too? There is something in the distance, but something wonderful.

   At a garage sale over the weekend, I snagged for exactly one dollar a framed oil painting of a garden door.   Believe it or not (I hope you do believe me) it is the spitting image of one of the ways that Worry Door appeared to me almost two weeks ago. I now have the painting propped up on my writing desk, gently reminding me to keep that door closed.

   As I close up this afternoon to move on to life's next skinny little chapter, I am expecting some good news for my parents and little sister. I am trusting that my girls, my human chickens, feel the best of everything along with me. I have confidence in my husband and his future.And I crave Nutella like nobody's business.

"My joy, my grief, my hope, my love,
Did all within this circle move."
~Edmund Waller*
xoxoxoxo

*Edmund Waller was a seventeenth century English poet and member of Parliament.