Never, never on a Wednesday

"The last time it snowed on a Wednesday, we were still in love."

"I still had hope."

"You still called me."

These are lines that are swirling through my head today.

"It snowed last night and most of the day. The wind was even from the east again, instead of the usual west. It made me think of you."

I think any of these would be a great opening to a book. Or a short story. On any day but today, that is.

It really did snow last night. And most of the day - from the east. And none of the above lines now say, "Chapter 1" to me. They all say, "The End".

I hate feeling this weak.

I should be angry, but then what does that say of my nature to forgive?

Crossing the gap

I've always hated "those women".

Those 30- and 40-somethings who are looking for themselves. Trying to write, or paint, or act, or . . . well, whatever they felt they missed out on in their earlier years.

Yet, here I find myself, 40-something, with so much to say and so many ways I wish to express it.

• I have a yoga room (which doubles as a spare bedroom, but still).
• I also have a craft room (or, as Husband says, a crap room).
• I try to take some sort of pictures at least 5 times a week.
• I made a pact with myself last year to write at least 5 times a week, and given health and computer issues, I am trying to make up for lost time.

The things I want to say, however, are not appropriate for this venue. They are too personal, too deep. But, instead I find myself wanting to sit down and write them anyway. In my craft room, after thinking about them during my yoga session. (hahaha)

This should be good. I'm becoming one of "them". I've always been my own person. It's really hard, now, to think I have conformed.

On a higher note, the fasting continues. I have two fasting partners now and feel I can conquer the world. It's such a liberating feeling. And after a period of being "glutenized" this weekend, my system can sure use a break!