And then, you remember.

And all it took was a day at the beach. 

This is the day I've spent thanking God profusely for my daughter's persistence. We'd Mapquested a couple of places and left for errands, a cinnamon roll and a surprise journey. We ended up cruising and cruising for a parking space at the beach. Even though the board was in the car, we turned into the lot on the thought she'd show me where she'd spent the day earlier in the week. Really, she wanted to repeat the fun she'd had at Beach Day with her youth group pals, boogie boarding for hours on end.

I wanted to be free and go after those ideas we'd mapped (see the problem...).

                                                                                                                          Finally, all she had to say was, "can we go around just once again? I had so much fun and I really want you to come watch me on the boogie board." We found a spot. We walked to the right lifeguard station and there, amid the June Gloom (in July), the people and the plan, I got the thing I love so much right there, the beach. The expanse of the sea, my place in the sun, and of course, 

birds and seashells.

Oh, and one very happy boogie boarding girl.

Time away

Do you ever just fade a bit?

I notice that when the busyness of what I have to do demands more of me that I expect, I leave a little. I step away from the things that might be essentially me. Things like quiet and words. I press on. Work hard. Keep going. But I do it out of resources that are replenished by other processes. Not by consuming so much. I think it has little to do with the mindless consuming I can meander through. But I seem to be refreshed in the flashing of fingers on the keyboard or the squiggles that come from my pen in morning pages.

I like coming back into focus.
And taking on the wild things that are, of course, a part of life.
Wild and busy things.

Ah, what grace is found in language.
Even and most probably the unspoken.

Reading?

Somewhere, I saw and saved this wonderful list of 100 books other than 50 Shades.

Where all the books? I've been living a sad fictionless life and I see the light at the end of the tunnel right now. So tonight I'm actually starting the Marisa De Los Santos book resting on my nightstand. We've had a busy second half of the school year and relaxing and reading just got in the way of volleyball and driving and work and meetings and Bible Study and all else that fits tightly onto my list of things to do. But now my part-time job will become truly that. I'll go to work for a few hours a day and come home and live the life of someone who actually inhabits the life and home they chose. Ahh.

After Marisa, I'll start down the Classic Fiction trail.

And you?