Working, working, working...there's probably a song in there...
It's raining. The cool night air smells of falling leaves, fruit pies, fires in the woodstove, and tea in a Christmas mug from Grandma's house. I enjoyed a quiet connecting time with Jean and Mike this evening after school.I also enjoyed someting called a Mikearita--actually only a half of one. That's all my body can handle at the moment. It was and is a Gift to have the love, support, friendship, and trust of such a family of choice. When I don't have my Heart in knots and my Head in a box, I can sense and acknowledge, honor and love my families of origin and choice. I hope they all know that I Love them deeply--as only a 4 can.

It continues to be tough to live here at Fair Isle. The sleep is intermittent and the dreams are of longing, loss, and times with my Beloveds gone from this plane in this way. I am counting on times when we will be together again. I've already asked God to give my "mansion" to someone else...I just want to stay with Grandma and Grandpa Surridge, in their basement, with my own dogs, to make tea, and to have a door that opens out onto a garden and a spot like at Pop's Lake. There will be no arthritis, no cancer, no dementia, no seizures, no shaking, no abandonment, no fear, no pain, no longing---only joy, laughter, peace, love, and MY dogs' hair up my nose and in my tea--in the Christmas cup, of course, from Grandma's set. And I want my families there and they don't have to call...

Things at school aren't going well and they aren't going badly. Tomorrow is do it or toss it. We are in the middle of intense writing workshops which leaves little or no energy for the setting up for and creating infrastructure for this 3/4 adventure to come. Sigh.. tomorrow will be the thing...