>I’ve been resistant to blogging. Maybe because all that’s been on my mind lately is Mom, and I want to write about happy, happy, happy things, not grief, although I suppose that’s not fair to myself. Every time I see a Mother’s Day anything I get a little twinge inside, as if I’m bracing myself for another Christmas, another Easter, although this will be different – a day fully dedicated to one’s Mother. I can still celebrate her, of course, but it’s not the same, of course.

A dear writing friend of mine lost his mother yesterday. What terrible timing. There’s no good time, really. I wish I could say something that would help him, that might ease the loss, but there’s very little that can honestly do so. I know what not to say, though, based on so many conversations with Dad – it’s not helpful to say ‘let me know if I can do anything.’ Grief is so thorough, so surrounding, that the griever isn’t going to reach back out to that person and say ‘I need this. Remember when you offered?’ Dad’s advice was/is to just do it. Just do something for that person – don’t ask. And then if they end up not wanting it, don’t be offended. They can’t tell up from down, for the most part. It’s actually good advice in general, I believe – just do it, don’t put the responsibility on someone else’s shoulders to ‘let you know’ if and when they need something. Most people don’t like asking for help for fear of inconveniencing, or something else.

Yes, happy Wednesday! I would like my backyard to look like this, I think.

I need to pull the camera out more, and capture things like the blooming rose bushes on the path up to work. Or Kitty, watching the birds, and the way he looks up at me and meows. “Look, please let me go out and kill them? I need to kill them. I do! They want to be killed, with their fluttering wings and squawking beaks!” Then he meows again, pathetically, tail twitching. And sometimes his meows are silent, as if his little larynx stopped working, but his mouth opens, and you can see his little diaphragm work – it’s so precious. Remember his silent meows, Malia? And his baby dinosaur squeaks?

I’m going to fight with Deadbells today. I keep waiting for the cure, the magic fix that will suddenly pull this story all together, but so far it’s eluded me. Perhaps today will be that day.


Wow. I want to make this. Sometimes I get so bent out of shape about my body not responding to carbs and sugar, but if I just made a little more of an effort, we can have amazing things like this! No more excuses, I think. Plus, I have everything at home but the sorghum flour. Oh, and the xanthum gum. Maybe I can use buckwheat flour instead of sorghum…

John just sent this to me. The dog has worked so hard, all morning.