So Now It’s Almost November


And I still haven’t been on a boat.  Or made a lot of time to write.


We all know I love lists.  So what have I done since my last post??  Shall we see???

  • Made probably 14 healthy dinners
  • Made like 10 decent breakfasts
  • Hosted a stupid birthday party with 65 people inside because it rained even though there was a 30% chance that it would NOT RAIN (I did a terrible job fyi)
  • Colored my hair twice, for better or worse
  • Hosted my brother and my cousin and her daughter (with varying amounts of awesome (Kimberly, you were the highest amount of awesome)
  • Vacuumed like probably 50 times
  • Given four flea treatments (to cats)
  • Washed and folded at least 20 loads of laundry, not counting kitchen rugs
  • Consumed 5-6 bottles of wine and a bit more beer
  • Kept 5 children alive (with help)
  • Discovered Game of Thrones (Khaleeeeessssiiiiii!!!!!)
  • Yoga like AT LEAST five times
  • And tonight we carved pumpkins and I think it almost killed me
  • Wrote a blog post one time
  • Thought of concrete, real-life actions I could take to progress my life goals
  • Almost did like one of them

As you can see, I have been very busy.  And now I’m going to get some rest before I need to find more tea light candles for the pumpkins tomorrow night.



Otto and That Other Guy


I waited two days to write this down somewhere, and I’m doing it here, now, because though I may not be thinking *entirely coherently*, I’ve already waited this long to make record of a dream that was more beautiful and vivid and is most definitely going to be the basis of the novel that I will actually finish and if I wait any longer or do it anywhere else, it’s going to disappear into an abyss of dirty dishes and cat fur.

On a boat, mostly a sailboat, lived two boys.  Otto and Eric. (Camillo?)  White sun was all they knew: it bleached the wood, it warmed their skin, it dried damp linen.  The sky was blue, the water was blue, sparkling, and they knew each other.

People were told they were brothers, but the men and the women laughed at that.  “You look so different, a sunny almond and a dark raisin, you are like the day and the night.  Maybe your mother wasn’t very honest,” they would say with a wink and a gut laugh.  The boys would watch the women clutch their throats, the men’s belly’s jiggle, enjoying a joke they didn’t yet understand.

Life was bare feet, scampering around barrel-chested men pulling sails, their mother and other women with soft voices feeding them bits of vegetables and oily, delicious fishes, and of course, Anna.  Eric was in love with Anna.  But so was Otto (along with anyone else who laid eyes on her).  She was the queen of the water, dark eyes as big as the sea at night, slim wrists, a smile that was hard to find.  I think they both knew she was Eric’s.