The alarm had gone off and with a swipe of my finger I was plunged into relative silence again. I rolled onto my back, pulled the covers up to my chin, and looked out the large picture window on the opposite side of the room. Stars and planets twinkled in the dark of morning. Continue reading
I wasn’t feeling it. My spark was sputtering and faltering, and any free time I had, I wanted to fill with Life’s daily “things” that I felt needed doing before the ground froze, before such-and-such went bad, before I forgot until it was too late. Add to that the plethora of #MeToo stories and allegations and, as I explained to Mr. Muse, I found myself exhausted at the end of the day. After all of the “things,” I just wanted to curl up with a book or play a game where I didn’t have to think about how drained I was, and still am.
Mr. Muse and I decided many years back to remain child-free. We have a handful of couples we’re friends with who have also chosen the same path. Contrary to popular opinion, this isn’t due to a lack of enjoyment of children, because when you get us all around kids, especially kids in possession of a curious minds – we all become teachers, mentors, and instructors. Continue reading
The other night I was writing in my journal about how I’ve felt recently about writing for my blog, this blog. I lamented my lack of focus; my ideas pass before me much like dust motes seen in the sunlight of a window. I wrote that I hoped being more consistent, once again, with journaling would help train my brain into being able to stick with an idea until it was fleshed out. Then, something clicked in my mind. Continue reading
Whether an anecdote, or hard (semi-hard?) science, the rule of thumb is that it takes 21 days* to make, and break, habits. I’d had an excellent three-month run of sticking with my strength routine, journaling most days, and tracking calories. Then I had Cordelia installed, had three months of very limited use of my left arm, and went on a 16-day road trip for good measure. My good habits? Right down the drain. Continue reading
My wedding set was filthy. Dirt had worked its way underneath and into the caging, the baguettes were dull and lusterless and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sent it for a spa day. The jeweler looked at it, and after their pitch to me to get me to buy their cleaner, they smiled and followed with, “You know, you could just make this set into a pendant and get yourself something bigger.” Continue reading