My Aunt Louise and Uncle Bob came to town a couple of weeks ago. Here’s the family pic that Greg took. Sage is hiding behind his BF Anthony. My aunt and uncle are in the middle. Notice how my brother has to duck before going in doorways! He’s about 6’11″! We’d like to get up to Tennessee to visit with them some more — if finances permit.

As you know, I’ve been having problems getting my butt in gear to write. I was talking about the negative voice in my head that says, “I hate writing!” when Sage said, “Well, tell yourself you love it!” Good advice, which ultimately comes from me anyway, as I’ve been talking to him about how powerful thoughts can be. I don’t always practice what I preach, though.

So I started saying how much I loved writing, and what an awesome writer I am, and the block lifted and I got a couple of articles done. That block was the worst I’ve ever had. What was happening was that every time I’d sit down to write, I’d find a reason to get up and not do it. Then I forced myself to sit down, and what happened next was a gray fog would cloud up my head and I’d feel awful and not get anything done. The positive affirmations really helped to clear that up, as corny as it all sounds.

Greg is having a flare-up of fibro and has missed a lot of work this month. I think that if he didn’t focus so much on negative political stuff, he’d feel better. I mean, listening to Rush and his ilk would make anyone sick. Who knows. I get worried about not being able to afford our lifestyle if he can’t work, but my older son who walked barefoot from Oaxaca to Guatemala (yes, really) has taught me something about that. God provides for him even though he doesn’t own a darn thing besides a backpack and perhaps a change of clothes — and doesn’t want to.

So the bottom line is that I honestly believe that even if we ended up living in a tent or something (unlikely!), that everything would be okay. I have to say I’ve never felt this degree of peace about things in my life until recently.

I’ve been applying the positive stuff to other things in my life as well. I decided to ACT LIKE I didn’t feel anxious and mildly depressed and just do stuff I would do if I didn’t deal with those issues. The last month has been lovely, and I have much less A & D than I used to!

Sage loves the Celtic song Battle of Aughrim and printed out the tabs for it last night. He can already play the intro pretty well! He says that he loves Celtic music even more than stuff by System of a Down, which is really saying something. It’s a beautiful, beautiful song. Give it a listen if you have the time.

Sometimes I feel like a spoiled brat. The work I do yields a better per hourly rate than I can make as a professional teacher where I live. There are people all over the world who would do anything to be able to earn what I earn working from home doing non-physical labor.

So I feel guilty for hating it so much right now. I have serious writer’s block when it comes to work articles, and I’ve found that whenever I am looking at the screen, preparing to write one of the suckers, a feeling of exhaustion just overcomes me.

You know it is bad whenever you’d rather clean the litterbox than do your work.

This is the type of thing I write — easy and boring. Hence the tired feeling, I suspect. Note that the link does not go to one of my own articles, as it would be stupid to complain about the work one is doing for a client and then link to that work.

While I am working on alternatives, nothing has come together just yet — due to my lack of effort and energy. Meanwhile, I can’t say that I would be any more jazzed about returning to a 9 to 5 grind. So I’d better get busy.

Am digging Ric Stultz’s art. Amazing how such colorful work can be so dark.

I’m still working on giving away my 45 things. It has turned into more of a “clean and organize the entire house” sort of deal. I’ve gotten all of the homeschool stuff sorted, at any rate. Now I’m tackling shoes. How many pairs of shoes does a person need, anyway? I think I could be happy with a couple pairs of jeans and some comfortable sandals or boots — so why don’t I just get rid of it all?

I suppose I am afraid I will change my mind after the fact and spend money on clothes that I’d rather spend on something else more important.

I’ve joined a book club. We’re reading Karen Armstrong’s 12 Steps to a Compassionate Life. I have four more days until our second meeting and I haven’t bought the book yet. Tomorrow!

Speaking of books, I’ve just read the most amazing young adult novel — Brutal, by Michael Harmon. I love it because it features me as the protagonist. Actually, she is quite a bit braver than I was in high school, but I thought the same thoughts. Harmon nails the spirit of institutionalization in our public schools.

I am avoiding work and courting poverty. Must find something to do in addition to articles about the nutrients in a sweet potato. The pouches, perhaps. Or the scarves. Something.

Love this photo of Sage in our bedroom, engrossed by the computer.

Greg and I finally got a new bed. It’s a queen-sized mattress, actually. There is no bed frame at this point. I was reluctant to get it because I liked the old bed frame, which was handmade by my grandfather. However, the mattress was an odd size between twin and full. So not a night has went by in years that we haven’t woken each other up with an elbow in the face or from peeling sticky skin apart on a warm night. Now I sleep all night long and wonder why we didn’t do this years later, cool bed frame or not.

Sage and his friends played a trick on me today by rigging a cabinet to have a cicada (dead) with a string attached fly out at me when I opened it to make tea. I screamed. He and his friends gave each other high fives and hooted and hollered. I told them I would take my revenge, and that had them very worried. What I ended up doing was putting red food dye paste inside of the bathtub faucet. I let them know I had done something and they had to search for it, which they did, very nervously. I didn’t have the heart to actually let them encounter “blood” coming out of the faucet without some mental preparation — one of the kids would have wet his pants! We all had a great time.

Today, Sage asked me if I minded if we worked on math and science on Saturdays, too. It turned out that we didn’t have the time, but it’s cool that he’s so into it. He is such a pleasure to be around. My mother keeps warning me that he’ll probably become like me when I was a teen, but I disagree. Kiddo is pretty content and chill, unlike me at any age!

He kicked his granddad’s booty at the Chinese game “Go.” My dad, who is like some sort of chess master, was pretty surprised, because he had been studying the game. So now they’re in this heated competition — love it!

I dream of earth, grass and wood
Of clay walls and a well
Of children playing freely
No screens, only delighted screams
An honest day’s work in the service of life
Skins and strings a backdrop for conversation and
other things
Delight in the new gray of a hair
A crinkle of laughter
Stones
Wool
Wood
Water
Is my shopping list
Simplicity
Not advertised in a greasy-slick sick magazine
For this moment’s celebration
I’m giving away 45 things
At the behest of my dream

Sometimes I find it difficult to constrain my impulses.

Sage had a friend over, and was demonstrating a ninja kick. So I had to demonstrate how I could (in theory) kick each of them in the head with my superior ninja skills. (Long legs, flexibility and the willingness to be totally uninhibited.)They went into Sage’s room to hang out and I had a sudden flash of self-consciousness, like, what the heck? Aren’t I supposed to be baking cookies or something rather than terrorizing them with the image of a 44-year-old woman doing high kicks and screaming?

Actually, the kids baked the cookies themselves earlier. I turned Sage loose in the kitchen with instructions to use quality ingredients in the correct proportions and order and he invented some seriously yummy spice cookies. Buttery, crisp around the edges, a bit soft in the middle. It was worth breaking my no-sugar-in-the-diet law that I normally comply with.

I got the best complement in possibly my whole entire life last night, though. I was driving Sage and his friend home from Boy Scouts, and they asked me for help with a badge requirement. I told them it wouldn’t be a problem and we’d work on it the next day. Sage’s friend A. said, “Man, Sage, you’re so lucky.” Sage replied, “Why, cause I have such an awesome mom?” A. nodded.

It totally floored me. I feel good about being my wanna-be ninja self.

I. So. Want. To. Win.

Wonderful Paris trip right here!

Today is the last day to enter.

(Margaret, you come to mind…)

We finally made it to the beach, although it wasn’t Pensacola after all. Once again, we went to Galveston, which now feels like it could be a second home, in all its filthy glory.

I still love the Hipstamatic app. No way was I taking the “good” camera anywhere near sand! We played on the beach the last day we were there — not so much the day before. A swimmer was washed away up the beach a bit from us because of the heavy surf. The entire next day they were dragging the water, looking for him on jet-skis and flying helicopters overhead. I couldn’t deal with hanging out at the beach because I kept imagining the body washing up. Sure enough, the next morning it did, a couple of blocks away. Very sad stuff.

Greg told me that someone got bit on the leg by a bull shark the day after we left. Neither of these events is very common, thank goodness.

We went to Kemah, and the guys rode the ancient wooden roller coaster. You can see them if you look closely. Unfortunately, I used the wrong setting on my camera and it came out blurry.

While I was waiting for the roller coaster ride to be over, I took a picture of these flowers. A girl walked past me and asked me to take her picture and was acting all drunk and slutty. I was in a humorless mood, or I’d have a hilarious photo to show you.

Love these boats. Want one.

Back at the beach, Sage and I saw a bird who was enjoying the sensation of flying without actually doing so. He was in this position for about 15 minutes.

I love the tiny houses in Galveston. Perhaps I should send this pic to The Tiny House Blog, which is one of my faves.

I am soooo tired of writing right now. I need another egg for my financial basket anyway, so I am concentrating on learning how to make little coin purses. Yes, that’s the niche I’m going for — coin purses and make-up pouches. This was inspired by my fruitless search for even so much as an adequate coin purse for my pool bag. Surely I can master this craft…

In other news, I am successfully dieting and feeling pretty good, except for the worry about Sky. It’s been nine days since I’ve heard from him, and I just feel worried. I sent him a couple of emails and he hasn’t responded. I called his place in Oregon and they told me that he took off for California and that they hadn’t heard from him either. My biggest challenge sometimes is trying not to go nuts with worry.

Update: Seconds after I posted this, I heard from Sky! Wow! ****Relaxing****

Lots of things have happened since I last posted on this blog.

My dog Salsa died. She was 13 years old, and she simply couldn’t get up one day. We miss her a whole, whole lot.

My older son and I are not seeing eye to eye on some important things.

I’ve been exercising, have lost ten pounds, built some muscle and have a great tan.

I sold some writing for thousands of dollars and replaced the roof on my house.

We got a new car — a light blue Honda Element. I love it. It has a great sound system.

I’ve been driving out of town by myself. It’s only a matter of time before I put Sage in the car and head off to camp on the beach whenever I want.

Sage and I are going with my mom and dad to Pensacola, Florida. They’re renting a condo on the beach and invited us along. Greg is going to catch up with us later in the week.

I’m worrying about my brother. He cannot hold down a job, is depressed, quite overweight and drinking four Dr. Peppers a day. Sugar and schizophrenia are linked, and by all appearances, he may be gearing up for another episode. I’m frustrated that he won’t (can’t?) do anything to help his situation.

I’m concentrating on maintaining an even keel. Focusing on the positives seems to help.

I heard from Sky!

He’s fine.

I’m still not thrilled about his trip, but it’s so, so wonderful to hear that he’s doing okay.