What I could have written about.

Well, there's so many things that I could have written about:

The big full moon in a dark cloudy sky, and how it reminded me of The Highway Man from highschool..."The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas." and I smiled to myself on the way home from a job that satisfies my heart.

I could have written about William turning five...

Or the snowstorm that dropped a foot of snow on us over night. Grandpa and William and I enjoyed our snow day.

Or about walking across a pedestrian walk with Tim and waving in a friendly way to the car that had stopped to let us cross...just as she was t-boned by a car coming out of a parking lot.

I could have told you about a new grand nephew, and my youngest sister, a grandma four times over.

Dylan and Brittani are coming home in two weeks.

I could have told you about the secret joy of folding laundry in my own comfortable living room while watching 'Still Alice' while crying buckets. I could not have done such a thing if I hadn't been home by myself.

There's that little marmalade cat of mine who knows that Tim does not like her on the bed. So she waits until she hears him snoring (which is pretty quick ~ I've never understood how he can fall asleep so quickly) and then Paddy will come quietly to my side of the bed, and I move my feet to make room for her to curl up on the electric blanket and she arranges herself purring contently.

I built a robot with William. We are growing crystals too.

I got roses for Valentine's Day. I got a sweet card from William that thanked me for our 'mugwump adventures'.

I could tell you about watching a daughter heal.

I could tell you about working with Tim on a house again.

There's always some book that I could tell you about...

...or some interesting person that I've met here or there or where ever...

About hugs from strangers. About hugs from old friends.

Maybe I could write about why I suddenly feel the need to wear colors instead of my customary neutral earth tones, and to wrap myself up in scarves from Afghanistan or Australia...or why my hair is growing long and unkempt, and why I like that

About dreams of unfed birds drowning, so vivid that I came from bed to read about dreams and decide why it had affected me so much that I woke up with tears in my eyes.

I could tell you about a meeting where I felt a strong urge to speak and so I did...and when I did, I caught a startled look from someone across the table and knew that I had spoken his mind as well.

I could tell you all sorts of things, and I am not sure why I don't. Just know in the absence of posts, life continues on, and it is filled with all sorts of small and wonderful joys.