There was something I was going to write about tonight. I wish I had a clue what it was. A few things are in process, both for novel and blog, and they feel too heavy for today. The last few posts have been just a tad serious, don't you think? Life is like that. But life is also deliriously gorgeous and delightful. And funny. I took my clean self out on a good long drive --- okay, my carbon footprint for today is gigantic but I really do make up for it on days when I am a slug. Now that everyone who follows me on Twitter and all my Facebook friends know that I took a bath this morning, only after checking with the rest of the fam to make sure I wouldn't mess up their schedules by draining the hot water tank, because that is what I do when I take time to soak and think, it is likewise obvious to you that our family communicates by text messages within our house. Pathetic? Kind? Unintrusive? Impersonal? You judge. I won't pay any attention to it though and I don't really care because it works for us. But isn't this a weird world? We do this all the time. Dave has a very fine paneled executive office on the first floor of the house. He is often on long telephone calls so it is best not to disrupt him and sneak in a text to his cell phone instead. Annika was at her computer, twenty feet away from me, but she was in the midst of filling out her housing forms for school next fall --- oh my lord, she really IS moving to New York! We don't always not talk to each other but we do it often. My writing space is upstairs and, well, it's just easier. "Time for lunch?" "Did I leave Daisy outdoors?" "Who rang the doorbell?" Mundane stuff. Life is weird. So. Back to my drive. It is really spectacularly beautiful here right now! All the rocks are spackled with snow and the big wide meadows are covered, with fence posts sticking up through the two or three feet of white stuff like match sticks. I saw four deer, including Bambi herself, in Deer Creek Canyon, eight miles from home and I watched horses nuzzle and try to stay warm, even in their heavy coats. Favorite CD's were cranked to top volume; did the car rock at stop signs? Perhaps. I am relieved to report that Linda Ronstadt did not today literally blow out the speakers. as she did at home. No, it was the tuner that blew up. Do you know how much emotional ground you can cover singing along with Linda and Sheryl and Janis and Mick and Sir Paul? I remember now. I wanted to wish you a respite in all the heaviness that covers you. It is a heavy time for many, for many reasons. Your resonance with what I write is a somber confirmation that telling my story might be cathartic and helpful, and before that, it will stir up stuff. My wish for you this tender night is a lot of laughter, yes, even in bed if it comes to that, or tomorrow. And something spectacular to catch your spirit and lift it up. And while you're at it, take a long hot bath. And text someone to let them know. Oops.