Day 79

One of those days when everything I read over sounds childish and bad. Need to take a break from it all but can't really afford the time... Something to be remedied by kids' spring break next week!

Day 78

Finished a sendable draft of my writing for this packet, but exhausted. Can barely read at night...resorted to catalog shopping! Rereading "Beloved" after a period of years and finding it this time absolutely electrifying, now I get it a bit more and can be more patient with the quirks in the writing. Just beautiful, but maybe I'm getting too old to read about such suffering. Longing for some peace.

Kids were wild this weekend -- too much indoor time and red food coloring (Cat in the Hat cokies). Consequently, I have few reserves. My eczema-ringed eye is beginning to make me look like  a battered wife. I can see people looking at me, wondering if they should ask...

Gave up two hours of writing time this morning to go to yoga, just so I could survive the day. Wonderful. Even helped me with my essay on somatic memory, though of course I wasn't supposed to be thinking about that!

Day 77

The more I try to edit, the more the memories come flooding and the pages grow and grow...

Day 76

Ballet with my daughter and "Queen of the Sun" documentary with my 6 year-old son, a wonderful date, then walking in the rainy blossoms. No possibility of doing any work. Time to just think and be.

Day 75

The effort of remembering is making me ill...
but it is a purging.

Day 75

In the twenty minute period between teaching and picking up my son early from school for a half-day today, I looked into my office and peered wistfully at my computer. "Tomorrow," said she, so I went to Starbucks with my son and we ate cake pops while together we did his first ever homework assignment. I saw the man in the corner smiling at us and thought, "Yes, I am as lucky as you think I am."

Tomorrow, of course, no more excuses!

Day 74

I've said it before but I'll say it again, the practice of memoir writing is epiphanic, mind-blowing and a better healer than just about any therapy. Talk about the examined life -- even the little dust bunnies of moments that went creeping off under the bed years ago and think they are safe, even they get pulled out to stand to account. What a marvelous time waster!

Walked tonight in the evening after looking after 4 kids and getting to a crazy point with my son, who had displeased his teacher with his over-exuberant behavior at school today. The light was soft, the blossoms fragrant, the birds loud as spring itself. On that walk, I clarified the purpose of my writing project and maybe came up with a subtitle for the book. 'Oh,' I thought. 'I can relax, I can take a walk and call it work!' Ha!