Notes from the Front

This morning, before I really woke up, I thought I was back in my bedroom at the old house, the one we lived fifteen years, sleeping in the pink daybed I had til I was eleven. Then my roommate made a noise and I was very confused for a few minutes.

The last time I heard John Stone speak, on repentance, things converged in my life to one of those turning times, the kind you look back at again and again to remember how clear God is sometimes. This weekend, I heard him speak again, on the cross of Jesus. The same kind of convergence, though not as dramatic, and, I think, longer worked-out.

I am not going to exercise today. Usually I make this decision midday-afternoon. See what happens, hope that I can still squeeze it in. Not today. Exhaustion + tight schedule, pure and simple. Decide accordingly.

Leonardo was in a Monday mood yesterday. Sometimes, I try to cheer him up and it doesn't really work. Yesterday I decided to make fun of him instead and things were great. Moral: a little meanness can be very effective.

Lately I have been writing poems off Grimms' fairytales. Disturbing, deeply deeply disturbing. That is all. Ever read The Juniper Tree? My children will grow up on Beatrix Potter and A.A. Milne, thank you very much.

Yesterday, I put some clothes in the wash. Then I collapsed on the bed and fell asleep with my shoes on. The nap was much too short. And they were red sneakers that I bought for five bucks at WalMart. In case you were wondering.

I have not been dependent on coffee since early January. This is a good thing, I think. Today is a coffee day, though. In fact, a constant caffeine drip, that would be preferable. I'd even numb my fear of IVs. Ohhh. That is a tough decision . . . yes. The caffeine wins. Take my left hand, though.