Restless

I moved to the couch in the middle of the night. I was restless and sometimes a fresh place to lay my head is all it takes. Little Gus cuddled with me and gave me love bites when I would stop petting him as I succumbed to sleep. It's much sweeter than it sounds. I was tasked with making sure Lils got up for work this morning even though the girl has three alarm clocks. I could tell that day was breaking even in my sleepy state. I didn't want to open my eyes to see the time. I got a mental picture that it was 7:05 and when I looked, that time was confirmed on the dot. A good guess? Instinct? Energy channeled? It doesn't matter. Sometimes we just have to trust how absolutely bad ass our minds are.

I watched two hens walk through the yard yesterday. They both had poults that were staying close and preferring the perimeter. One gang was half the size of the other. Safety in numbers is always wise, but I am sure if they pass through today there will be fewer. A mama bunny was chasing her baby. We laughed and thought it was cute, but then realized that she was actually kicking it out of the nest. She finally ran away and left it in the middle of the yard looking so small and vulnerable. I'm not going to lie, my heart was a little broken. That bun bun can eat all my phlox and flowers. 

I have been quiet. I've been in my head. Something Selma Blair wrote in her memoir, Mean Baby woke me up. A moment can be a whole story. We don't have to have anything riveting or lofty to say to sit down and write. We just have to pay attention, notice things and trust that the words will come. I think in stories. I'm a writer to my core. These days I don't write much anyone else may care to read, but it is my sanity and so I come back again and again.

I liked Mean Baby. I didn't really know much about Selma Blair. I may have seen one of her movies. I was captivated by the cool candor she mustered in bringing meaning to her messy history. I could relate to her deep love for her mother, her penchant to internalize labels, and her deep need to understand where she came from so she can live freely now. Honesty grants permission to let go and heal.

I'm ready for the weekend even though this was a short week. The 4th was all the usual fabulousness we have come to know and love. The water was too cold for me to get in beyond my knees and brain freezing for anyone who tried to swim, but the sun was out and there was the nicest breeze on the beach. The water was glass one morning so I took the kayak out to the ship wreck. The SS Atlanta sunk in 1906 and on calm days can be seen from the surface. It was my first time visiting the vessel and the sight filled me with an immediate sense of panic. I became dizzy, disoriented and I couldn't wait to get back to shore. I'm not the first to have this reaction and I won't be the last.