|I suspect I've shown you this before, but that was for the bike, right? Wouldn't you like to get a closer look at those windows, though? I know I was drawn to them . . .|
We have some Big Stuff on the horizon. I'm not quite ready to talk about it here, but it's consuming a bundle of emotional energy and far too often, as it did last night, it's waking me up at 3:30 and keeping me that way for hours. Heart-pounding, muscle-tightening, nerve-flaming minutes among those hours, with no reason that would stand up in the morning light, I know. I do my best to yoga-breathe my way back to calmness, and eventually this morning I relaxed back into sleep just as traffic was getting active on the busy street outside the window.
I woke again at 7:30, a sleep-in for me, and it means a total of 7 (broken) hours' slumber last night, not too bad. Enough to power me through the walk to pick my granddaughter up at her preschool and deliver her, by bus, to her mom and near-toddler brother at home. It's delightful task for me that saves my daughter bundling the little guy up for a return-trip bus ride -- when I'm in town, I'm happy to be able to offer this respite occasionally. After I drop her off, I'll be heading home, by Skytrain, bus, big public ferry, 3K walk to small ferry, bike ride . . .
|At least, I could push my nose right up to the glass. . .|
Those physical -- even mechanical -- activities are tiring enough, eventually, but they draw from a bank of energy that seems separately supplied from that I'd need to write. I'm dissatisfied with myself for writing too many superficial posts lately, but I can't feel my way to the time or the energy or the discipline needed for more sustained writing. I'm hoping that once I can open up about the Big Stuff (and let me reassure you -- it's positive news, ultimately, but involves a big change; Pater and I are still solid), my fingers will begin processing astonishingly insightful deep thoughts through the keyboard at hundreds of words per hour. . . .
Meanwhile, would you settle for a peek at some Windows of Rome?
I wrote this yesterday morning, and then when I tried to load the photos I'd intended to include, the iCloud proved completely unco-operative. I gave up, needing to get on with preschooler pick-up, which was an absolute joy, despite the rain trying to make us grumpy (we decided that puddles are always a good thing -- she was biased, wearing green boots with pink bunnies). Too much transit for me, but Pater met me off the big ferry with our commuter boat, so I didn't have to walk to the small ferry. He had dinner all ready at home, and I absolutely crashed almost immediately after. Reader, I was in bed at 7:30 with the lights off, asleep shortly thereafter. And then I didn't wake until 5:30 this morning!
|And this window, the sweet little dresses glowing alongside the oh-so-pretty-pink ballet slippers. Can't you just imagine the little girls all dressed up for an evening at the theatre with Nana? Watching The Nutcracker, perhaps?|
But again today I'm having problems with platform interface in my various systems, and those window photos are not co-operating. I will post them as soon as I can, but I'm meeting someone in town, for breakfast, at 8:30, and I have a yoga class right afterward. Hoping all that will lift me up a bit because honestly, you remember those little toy airplanes some of us used to get in our Christmas stockings so many decades ago? The ones that you twirled the propeller round and round with your index finger, tightening up the elastic band to create enough torque that, on release, the little plane would soar and then twirl crazily across the room? I think my elastic band needs replacing 'cause I'm having a hard time getting any convincing energy torqued into it. . .
As I wrote, above, I can't even manage the Window photos right now, but I'll post them as soon as I can. Right now, honestly, my impulse is to erase this post and just lay low until I feel up to blogging again, but I'm not sure when that would be, and I'm a big believer in "Fake it 'til you Make it," or "Just Keep Showing Up." So, begging your indulgence, this is me, this week. . . .And no worries, it's all good enough and it will pass. . . But for now, also, it is...