Labor Day in Washington

Kids and I got enjoy a few hours in Washington before heading home today, and for me, it was like coming full circle. After we got up and moving (and everything out of the room), we took the Metro to the Capitol to give them a chance to see the inside of the building, and to hopefully make some memories like mine of that first tour.

The tour did not disappoint. We got to see a great deal of the Capitol (far more than I originally thought as we were going down into the new visitors center). After a 15 minute propaganda movie on the importance of the legislative branch, we had a great tour guide whose accent was very distinctly North Carolina. I guessed eastern, Mary Kathryn guessed western -- and she was right. In fact, he once served in the North Carolina Senate, back when I was eight, and was elected from Morganton to represent Avery County. It was really funny how the chance of that actually worked out.

But by the time we'd had the tour (and he revealed the flaw in the construction of the original House chamber -- something I remembered from my first tour 1,000 years ag0), we were all exhausted. By the time we got a wee bit (more) shopping done and back to the hotel, we pooped and then I had to drive home. I tried, and tried, to get Mary Kathryn to drive some but she was worried that some officer might have a problem with it. She's so responsible!

By the time we got home, and settled, we all floated to our space to let our time together to air out a bit and let us enjoy our privacy and own quiet in a way that made us savor that time so much more than we might have otherwise done.

Of course one of my favorite stories happened on the Metro ride back to the hotel. We were sitting there and this gentleman was sitting across from me. He turned and asked someone behind me if he'd like to buy some socks. That he sold socks and had great ones, for a good price. Having quickly been turned down by Target No. 1, I felt his gaze turn toward me. "How about you? You interested in some socks?" I paused for a minute, having prayed this question would come. "Nope. I don't wear socks. It's one of the tenets of my religion."

With no easy comeback to that, and no other potential customers around, he quickly realized that his stop had come, and need to make a hasty departure. I just smiled, and enjoyed the scene for just a minute before our stop had arrived. It was time to go home.

I close tonight with this little gem, which came to me unexpectedly. This morning, a friend of mine on FB, via status message, wondered: "Why we do New Year resolutions rather than Labor Day resolutions? It always feels like the beginning of something new."

I found that to be an excellent question. Our lives truly do revolve around the school year, even when are not in school. Piano and guitar lessons, soccer and fencing, homework, new goals, new objectives. In the work year, September is the beginning of the busy season (and is already turning out to be that way for me -- I think I have about five days home between now and the 20th...) and summer's ending brings a new start to our lives.

Now to think of resolutions to both speak and live up to... I am tired.

Aquariums are fun and tiring...

Transition from Baltimore to Washington today, beginning with our last few hours with Deepti and Uwe, before the kids and I went to the National Aquarium. Mary Kathryn loves aquariums. We walked through this amazingly well-designed, and fascinatingly diverse facility. I would have to say that for me the jellies were my favorite. But by the end we were all exhausted... Drew was hungry and dragging and MK and I were about to collapse from our dead phone batteries, hungry stomachs and worrying over poor Drew. But we got food, got in the car and made the "quick" jump down to Washington.

The first picture is from this really cool jellyfish. It was translucent (of course) but had these very cool LED-like lines running through it like veins. After all the other things we saw, to end with this delicate little creature was the right way to go home from the aquarium.

Once in Washington, and in the hotel, we all took a little break from each other -- the kids watching their respective TVs in our little suite and me taking a shower and a nap. The perfect boost before going to dinner. We are staying at the Capital Hilton, and I always like walking through the lobby. Always liked the bar here and the feel of this facility. Lots of good memories of health underwriters meetings, friends and otherwise, and I get a little smile just thinking about it.

After dinner we walked the two blocks to the north side of the White House so that I could take some pictures and we would get some get some exercise. The White House was as beautiful as it always is at night. The President and the First Family are at Camp David this weekend (according to the paper) and so there was some security, but that didn't reduce the crowd. Tourists were everywhere, and the Secret Service was keeping people on the sidewalk, and photographers from using their tripods on the sidewalks. I think I only embarrassed the kids once tonight (which might be a new record), but I did enjoy our walk all the way around the White House and back to the hotel. Great questions, intense listening and complete exhaustion when we returned back here. I'm not sure we've spoken 20 words between us since, but that's not because of anything other than we are all able to get our space while all are within juts 20 feet of one another. It's nice to have that peace and comfort between us.

My favorite statement of the day was from listening to Drew and Deepti talk about their respective sleep experiences last night. Deepti has been suffering from a bit of insomnia, and so as we were discussing that at the breakfast table, each were sharing their dreams. Then Drew popped up with this observation: "I prefer a nightmare to a good dream because if you are having a good dream, you wake up from it and you're sad it's over."

It was the kind of insight that when I heard it, I was simply amazed. I suppose at this stage I should not be surprised by anything that either of them might say, but there is something to be said about the lack of fear of nightmares, and the real value to see the emotional depth it takes to appreciate that difference between false scary and good.

Waking up in an odd house

This morning, as I awoke from dreams of my past, I could not remember where I was. I was lying on a twin daybed, partially under covers and Drew was across the room. My computer was closed and nearby. And I could barely remember falling asleep. Then I realized that I was in Baltimore, and it all fell (somewhat) in place.

Mary Kathryn was mostly up at 7 am, reading messages and all (only to quickly fall back to sleep). Drew was sprawled on his bed across from me, and I felt like I wanted a few minutes of peace and quiet downstairs.

The shadows in the room were fascinating, and this was the sight I enjoyed as the sleep released its grip on my head, and I stepped out to see how the day might be. And it was great.

But now I lay in that twin daybed again, and prepare for the sleep to come, with the hope that tomorrow I won't awake in an odd house; instead I'll just be the home of friends.

Travel and Travails

Good day, with one meeting. Interesting morning after last night's "conversation" about the weekend and the kids. Late night last night because of racing mind following the mean words said and an early morning this morning to get kids to school and then get ready for meeting.

(Started this last night after we got to Baltimore, and fell asleep writing it. These late nights and early mornings have been killing me, even if they are well worth it.)

Tonight, we are in Baltimore, and are spending the weekend with Deepti and Uma, and seeing Uwe while we are here. He was able to greet us last night when we got to Deepti's house, and it was good to chat with and see the Reverend Doctor. Tonight's picture is one of Mary Kathryn's, taken while we were driving up I-95 just south of Washington. Said a lot about my day...

Don't know why this weekend feels bittersweet. Was in Tampa a year ago, and had a great time with my friends there, but remember the highlight being a call I received on Saturday while I was driving into Ybor City. Seems odd to have the things hit you by time, instead of by place. They just come at you out of nowhere.

The drive is almost always challenging, given the competing interests of the kids -- movies, music, topics for conversation, adjusting to sharing my drive time silence with them, intermittent bathroom breaks and the occasional dust-up over a random topic (tonight, it was the disappointment of one in the other's inability to see beyond the intense dislike of Justin Beiber). But there are also moments of utter enjoyment.

Mary Kathryn's direct statement that what she wanted was to sit, talk, listen to music and spend time with me rather than put on her headphones so I could listen to my book. It takes that kind of directness (which I really like) from her to put me right. It helped me re-center myself on where I was at that moment was better than where I had been due to the day's calls, emails, BS from client or partner, and I needed to mentally start the weekend. The time itself had not yet influenced sufficiently my brain, much like the way the Crown had not yet positively transformed the ginger into its tasty treat.

Drew repeatedly leaned forward to talk, bringing forward something to Mary Kathryn and I. To hear his lyrical voice, engaged in nearly every topic raised, is always like music to my ears, and I could tell it was for her too.

But the most touching moment came when we stopped for a bathroom break between Richmond and Washington. Mary Kathryn came out as Drew and I were scavenging in the canyons of food and snack options. She walked up to me, and clearly had been affected in some way, causing me to start a little panic before she could say anything. Then she shared that a woman was crying in the bathroom, and that she checked on her to see if she needed anything.

The powerlessness in her voice was drowning out the “good” that she knew had come from her asking. She shared stories of people who had committed suicide because they felt no one else cared in the world, and I could see that she would never, ever let a person she knew or even didn’t feel that they were unloved or that no one cared by her inaction. The quiet pride I felt as I held her in my arms, between the rows of nuts and chips, as she cried her tears, and I felt her shouldering the uncertainty of whether she’d said enough to help the woman overcome her moment of sadness, or fear, or anger, or doubt about her own life. It will remain a poignant memory – absolute pride in her, as she gave her energy, and love, and tried to carry the hopes and fears of another to lighten their load and prayed she didn’t fail. It is a feeling, and a fear, that I can completely understand. It carried with it my own feeling of sadness as I see her mature into the woman that she has always been.

Mountain Foggy Morning

This morning, coming off the mountain to my meetings in Hickory, the sun was rising and the fog was hanging heavily on the trees and the land. Tired was in my eyes, and in my head, but the first tinges of my Diet Pepsi and my Vyvanse were beginning to give me that morning etherial glow.

You could feel that fall was preparing to conquer the air, the trees, the smell and begin the cycle of hibernation for nature. But the temperature was still in the low 70's as I descended, and the distinct feel of humidity and summer was putting up a fierce defense.

I know how this battle would end, but the utter beauty of the moment stopped me cold, and made me appreciate the view, the promise of rest and success, and the feeling that nothing would stop me today.

Been challenged to think about my reaction to various things in the last few days. Space. Something unknown. People who like confrontation, but don't know how to deal with being confronted with their own issues. It's an area that I feel that I don't have my confidence down yet, and struggle to just say the right words. An area of focus to come...

I miss you... I don't know what to say or do. But I do think about you every day.

Confusion

So yesterday, I was driving around after some afternoon meetings, and came across this pair of signs. My first reaction was: that is weird. How can I be going north and south at the same time?

I pondered this question for a few more minutes, and then realized I had missed a turn and came back the way I came. When I came to this sign the second time, I turned around and parked to take this picture because I thought it would be a novelty. That's when I read it...

The moral of this story? Things may look the same -- doesn't mean that they are.

Good luggage

Little things really do make me feel better lately. With as much traveling as I have been doing, the carryon issue has become increasingly important.

I had a carryon I used for years -- bought it in SF by the Wharf for dirt cheap (and got what I paid for) but used it for nearly 20 years. Of course, it had the distinct look of having been stepped on by an elephant, and possibly even passed through another. But it served it purpose and has been retired (which means that it is sitting in Mary Kathryn's closet).

This summer, while in SF again, I bought a new one. Loved it for about a week and then realized why I hated it. The wheels made too much noise -- like I was driving on the road with the monster truck tires. It wasn't well arranged. It didn't make me feel comfortable that it wouldn't fall apart like a lego monster at the least little event. And it was loud! So I decided that I needed to grow up and buy a new one.

Last Friday, was in Raleigh and had lunch with Gene and saw this luggage store at Cameron Village that screamed: expensive, but with a personal touch. Normally, I think that is what you want to think when you see a professional escort, but for me, the luggage angle had my interests.

Walked in, looked around, everything looked the same, and finally broke down and de-manned and asked for some help -- shocking, I know. I got the brief explanation about the differences in warranties, material, structure and extras. It felt a little like I was buying a car again. But my eye kept coming back to this pretty green one. (YES, I bought it because I liked the color. Do you have a problem with that? I didn't think so...)

It had smooth, quiet wheels. There's a twisty handle ("ergonomically correct"), and nicely lined interior with a cool hanger bag inside and a totally awesome strap that would allow me to add another bag or a small child to the handle while I was rushing through the airport. And it was green. I like green... eyes, shirts, grass, and all...

Today has been its maiden voyage. No champagne crashed upon the frame, but a lovely arrival in scenic Forest City at 10:30 and the twisty handle worked great. And as I rolled into the lobby on their faux-marble floors, it glided without a single sound of monster tires...

What the hell is it about Mondays?

Why do we hate this day? It isn't the first day of the week (for the record, fellow Baptists, the "keep the Sabbath holy" was not talking about Sunday). It is the first day of the work week, so that is something. I also think that all the crazies spend the weekend trying to think of crap to make life for the rest of us "interesting" come Monday when they can finally express it.

Fridays contribute to Mondays, because most people stop working about 1 pm on Friday, at least mentally, and so there's a lot put off from then that is also pressing down on the Monday gravity. And all that relaxation we shove into two days -- from Saturday naps to Sunday walks to waking up a little foggy from a few glasses of [fill in alcoholic beverage of choice here] one of those nights, that we need to go start draining our tanks so we can do it again.

Today's drama quotient was high and kept rising. The work issues kept falling out of the air like my hair in the shower in 1991. And while some got accomplished, I am ending this day feeling that I didn't get everything done that I had wanted to or intended to. Oh, like I never even pulled the camera out to take a picture today. Sorry...

So I move into Tuesday with lots to still do, and a few things to look forward to in the coming days. And thankfully I won't have another real Monday for two more weeks.

Emotional Absue

Having listened over the last week to the stories of friends who were all emotionally taken advantage of by one person, I am so torn up about it. As I've sat here, and thought about why and what about it makes me so mad, and sad, and frustrated...

I realized it really comes down to three things: guilt (for my own past bad acts with others), frustration that I cannot empower these friends to do something about it; and anger at seeing them hurt. I wonder what I can do and how I can protect them, and realize that I do not want to see others hurt and yet feel powerless to do something to accomplish that goal.

What else is there to be done? I do not know...

Green Room

Always inspired by the unexpected, and today was no exception. After dropping Caroline off at her house, Mary Kathryn and I went to grab some dinner to take home for the three of us. On our way, I passed many places from my recent past -- my former house, the apartment house where Betsy lived, Watts Grocery, Mid-South Fencing, and the Green Room. Lots of bittersweet for me in those two blocks, but also good memories...

The Green Room is a Durham institution. When I was at Science & Math, it was across the street from where it is currently (and has been for over 20 years). It's a pool hall, with a shuffleboard table, and a great place to just be with people you know, or don't know.

Betsy's husband Joe Wilson owned the Green Room for over 20 years, and sold it a few years ago to some of the guys who had worked there for years. One of my favorite things to do was sit on the couch at Betsy's and listen to Joe tell stories from those years. They were touching, and emotional, and funny, and real. Too many (and not enough) nights ended feeling that I had been given a great gift to have those stories shared.

If only we could get Joe to write that book: "A Thousand Saturday Nights at the Green Room." Betsy -- get to work on him!

Must close tonight with lyrics:

But you lied again

Now you get to watch her leave

Out the window

Guess that's why they call it window pane

- I love the way you lie, Eminem

Roadwork

A restful day -- maybe too restful. I got lots of sleep last night and then, after breakfast with Gene and Mary Kaitland and talking to someone about fixing the seatbelt in the Lexus so that it will no longer annoy MK, I came home and took ANOTHER nap -- 3.5 hours. So I am feeling rested, but beginning to think if my body is trying to tell me something. We'll see...

Tonight, headed to party for the happy couple, put on by their friends, and had to negotiate the roadwork on Glenwood Avenue. Effectively, NCDOT is tearing Glenwood up and re-doing it from downtown for about two or three miles. It's a pain to negotiate, but it's a pretty impressive job. In fact, I have noticed that there has been an incredible amount of road repair and repaving going on around the state, particularly in the Triangle. And it struck me the other day that all of this work going on, improving things in this economy might, just might, have something to do with the role that North Carolina played in electing President Obama -- both on primary night in May (when I was otherwise distracted) and in November.

I had a super time at the party. Met lots of people, and reconnected with a number of folks I hadn't seen in years. It was great to see Mark and Jennifer -- Mark is doing very well, and a real blessing to have him with us. So many cool folks there, and I was blessed by the evening in many ways. A great way to end my Saturday.

Layers

Working too late last night, but got my email "count" down to seven before I got in bed at 3 am. Up early to make sure I got the kids to school on time. Once the day's work had ended, and I was home alone in my quiet treehouse... I took a nap. My head kept falling over, and my eyes closing, and I laid down to a few minutes of rest that I apparently needed and deserved.

This morning, after my first tasks and appointments were done, I had some time left before I had to meet with Drew's therapist. Since I wasn't hungry, and there were no other things that needed to be done, I decided to go walk around Duke Gardens and take some pictures. It wasn't even close to something I would have done even a few years ago, but there was such joy, relaxation and revelation to be found in a few minutes in that serene environment.

I walked around. It was hot, but parking was free, and things in the garden I'd never found. Then it hit me: What I was "getting" from just being there was simply amazing. I walked along little paths, and my thoughts were filled with how I have changed, and how that has changed "who" I am. It made me fear the changes had caused the person that others knew, or respected, or loved was fundamentally different.

And it hit me. I finally accepted something that has been said to me many times in the last few months to be true: I am exactly who I ever have been. The great thing is that I am no longer masking that behind lies, or fears, or anything else that I used to try to keep my inperfections and flaws in the shadows. But I like who I am, and realize that the "change" is nothing more than being my most authentic self.

It was amazing how flowers blooming in the late summer sun, and little beads of sweat running down my back, and a camera in my hand allowed me to see something else that I just hadn't been paying enough attention to in my own head, and heart, and soul. It was there right in front of me all the time.

Butter mints

I love butter mints. Not those fake things you eat and taste one part plastic, two parts margarine with some hint of mint -- with too much fake color. No, I'm talking about the kind that make you want to go to a wedding reception and just stand by those colorful bites of God-given goodness to see if they meet the standard. And if they don't -- the wedding is a precursor to failure. It's really quite sad to see the evidence staring back at you from between your disappointed index finger and thumb.

Probably one of the best Christmas presents I ever got from my sister was like a two month supply of homemade butter mints that a friend of hers had produced. They lasted only a month, and undoubtedly added about five pounds to my then, but otherwise protruding belly. But they were damn good.

The standard for butter mints? The butter must play a leading role, and the fact that it is butter (and not margarine, or shortening) must be very clear. White cane sugar plays the crucial supporting role (like Heath Ledger as Joker in The Dark Knight) in keeping the butter together. The mint should be strong enough to not be ignored, nor so subtle that you wonder if you're just eating sugary butter. At the end, it's like you're eating icing, but not quite: it in that state of existence between stiff and brittle. I can only imagine that making them into their final form must be like making bricks.

OK, after that, I admit I have thought about this a little too much. But I do feel passionately about butter mints. Like most things in like, to do it right there are clear objectives and deliverables. And if achieved, they are well worth the four bucks I happily paid for the small tub I found at my breakfast joint in Icard yesterday.

Now, they sit beside me as I drive down the road, eaten as small presents, and the remainder... saved for another day.

Shoes

Tonight, I got a replacement pair of shoes in the mail for Mary Kathryn for a pair that were inexplicably stolen while we were walking down to the Pacific at the Cliff House. So I replaced the Target-bought shoes with some brand name, but I did it because I am fascinated by how the shoes made Mary Kathryn feel.

I have had my own shoe moments -- both from buying a pair that I liked or some that were more amazing than I thought possible. For years, I have lived off of three pairs of shoes: oxblood, tasseled, wingtips, same shoes but black and a pair of loafers. When the old ones wore out, I bought a new pair to match them. I also own the other required types of footwear: climbing boots, tennis shoes (not running shoes, not joggers, not cross-trainers: TENNIS shoes), cleats and Birkenstocks. What I don't own: flip-flops. Can't stand footwear that isn't grabbing a hold of my ankles...

Last year, in San Fran, I bought a pair of new shoes that were totally not me, but completely are now. In fact, when I got to Tampa on Saturday, Gerald looked at my shoes and started laughing. "What's so funny?" He then began to tell me that he had bought a similar pair of shoes and started to put them on that morning, and Mel said: "Those aren't you. David could pull that off, but you can't..." They're great to drive in, and even better to just hang out in.

So bless them shoes, and those who wear them well. To a great pair of boots, or someone who loves nothing more than wearing flip-flops. Here's to that pair of shoes that looks great on the floor, or bringing you up a few little inches.

Besides, I am best with no shoes on at all. I love being barefooted.

Drama

Today was too damn much... as I said before dinner tonight, drama at work is what you get when you allow human beings to occupy the same space for too long.

Ended my day tired from too much said about what others said, what they did not say, and how that impacted everybody else around them. It overshadowed my afternoon, and I am thankfully ending my day early so that I can go on to sleep to catch up from only having four hours last night.

Walking out of Tupelo Honey in Arden tonight after dinner, I caught the first cool breeze I've felt in a while. With the sun slowly settling lower in the sky, to feel the air tinged with lower temperatures made me both happy for the coming fall, and incredibly sad at the same time. I am a light person -- I hate short days, cold weather, and the melancholy that is the tagalong for a bad date. But the seasons are the seasons -- one ends, another comes, and (unless Al Gore is dead on), we will continue to feel that change every year.

And I added to drama by taking pictures of I-40's descent of Old Fort Mountain this evening. Pretty fun, stupid and actually an interesting catch after it all. Oh, and no one was injured or hurt (nor was there any property damage) from the taking of this photograph.

Love my occasional horoscope - This Week as Aries: Why should you work harder than everyone else? Why is it up to you to pick up the slack when others are suffering from outbreaks of laziness and incompetence? And why should you be the fearless leader who is focused on fixing the glitches and smoothing over the rough patches when no one else seems to care whether things fall apart? I'll tell you why, Aries: because it's the Karmic Correction phase of your long-term cycle -- a time when you can atone for past mistakes, pay off old debts, and make up for less-than-conscientious moves you got away with once upon a time.

Managing Frustrations

I end some days feeling worse than others. Today, without any one thing in particular, had all of its good moments overshadowed by bad. It ultimately came down to my inability to manage my frustrations.

This beautiful sky, and yet having to deal with drama that I don't want to... Kids are ready for school, and then things change suddenly and other decisions have to be made. Money spent (it's just money) but wondering where the next shoe will drop. Wishing a friend would be honest with me about his situation rather than just avoid me. Wanting something, and wondering if it was or is. Moving on in other ways, and still slapped back to reality. Fun, and then pause. A light, only to be snuffed out, or hidden by some new eclipse.

Thanks to my personal therapist, on my way west tonight, I got some peace from the shit in my head. Little things learned make me stronger, more capable for tomorrow.

I am about to fall asleep, and "ugh" is the sound I hear in my head as I think about today. The moon will be less full, but the shorter days are coming. The shadow is returning, and I must fight those little things from piling up on me all at once.

But I am touched by the struggle of others, for their own lost loves, their disappointments, the difficulties in dealing with those moving away, or moving on, in bold fashion, or by simple attrition. Makes me sad for my friends who suffer in a different way, these days, and to wish a peace to fill them, and ease their own journey into the future. I pray for the solace each are open to receiving.

Forgetfulness

Got up late, since I was up late giving directions, falling into sand traps and talking about life and its great potentials. After reorienting this morning, and packing to go home, we were off back to the airport.

It was sweet to watch Gerald make Melanie a snack to eat on the way to the airport. He was performing the airport shuttle responsibilities (I was going to Tampa, she was flying out Clearwater/St. Pete) and we were looking at the pictures from last night when it hit me: I left my cell phone back in his condo. Thankfully we weren't that far away yet and Tracy was able to get it and meet us halfway (thanks, Tracy!), but I felt so stupid. I just couldn't believe that I had, once again, left something pretty important as I was packing up to leave.

Being forgetful seems to always happen to me in about those kinds of things, and the little details never leave my mind. I could tell you with some certainty was was worn here, or where I ate a meal with someone that they might have felt was less memorable. I will notice and remember the smallest things, but I struggle with remembering the name of a person who I just talked to. Then, 20 years later, I could spot them in a crowd and remember most of the conversation, but still not their name.

My greatest fashion faux pas is the fact that I often forget to zip up my pants. (God, why am I admitting this here??) But it truly is something that I need to consciously think about when I am about to walk out of the house in the morning. Or to take my medicine when I've laid it out. Or to grab my phone, which is lying on the bed, and without which I would be lost.

But I will say: there is something nice about not being so tethered to the phone. I was without the phone for six hours yesterday evening, and didn't miss it a bit. It's my business life. It's the tie to my kids. But it's not a tool for distraction or hurt. It's just a tool.

Maybe forgetting it was just one more step away from it no longer ruling my life.

The 'Tow

So at the last minute this morning, I came to Bartow, Florida for the closing ceremonies of the Gerald and Melanie wedding trilogy. Thankfully, unlike the Star Wars movies, the drama has gotten less stressful as we've moved through each episode, but it is still just as fun. Melanie and I have wandered through the discussion of whether or not we are siblings at times through this -- in the end, we've determined it just seems that way.

Today, the excitement both she and Gerald had in me being there, and taking me around Oldtown, Lakeland and Bartow, showing me the sights, reminded me about the extreme value of true friendship. It was tying up a bow around their lives, to see and meet the people that have been a part of the 'tow part of their life together was a wonderful gift to receive.

The reception was a mix of many people who hang around the Bartow Public Golf Course, their friends from his various groups of friends, and his daughter, and her husband and children. The people ranged from all walks, and all were such fun, genuine people that I felt honored to just share the space of celebration with them. Catching them all in this setting, as the cameraman who also participates, has been one of the best parts of this. It makes me less certain that I could ever do this for someone I didn't know, and care for a very great deal.

Woke from a nap with bad thoughts, fears and emptiness, and ultimately just drank and talked and photographed my way away from that. The waves that come will always come.

Catch-up, or ketchup

Today was a great catch-up day. And I got to spend some really good time with the kids and then lots of work crap done that had been lost or was undone in the course of the week of traveling. It felt good to end the day with lots behind and not too much ahead.

It feels great to just sit on the couch and wonder why I don't do it more often. I know the answer, of course, but it was incredible to know that I didn't have to answer the phone, or run out to talk to someone. I could just sit, work on stuff that needed to be worked on and go help a friend with her campaign for state house. I had no need to do, and it made everything else work.

Tonight, around 9 pm, after we'd all finished making calls for the campaign, I realized the last meal I'd had was Drew's leftover steak for breakfast 13 hours ago. But hunger did not consume me. The thoughts in my head swirled, I ate a slice of pizza and enjoyed verbal sparing about campaigns, practicing law and how glad I am that neither of those things drive my life any longer. I am confident in who I am, and everything just is.

Surprised tonight with an invitation to go to the third part of Gerald and Melanie's celebration in Bartow. Gonna decide and do what feels right.

Home, and Happy...

Came home to get my children, and spend the evening with them. Too many miles, too much need for down time. The quiet in some ways is affecting me, and yet... I am happy to be home. Glad to see my beautiful children, and to sleep in my own bed tonight.