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fireunNext on the list of recovered critters residing in this house...myself. I have pulled myself out of the emotional morass that has been bogging me down since about March as familial and personal emergencies all marched in on the heels of each other and have actually started writing again. With serious intent and drive. I didn't realize how much I had missed it, sitting at the computer with a cup (or three) of coffee, music blaring, cats curled up on and around me, typing along.
I miss my sister, terribly. There is a wrongness that skitters through every day. But there are remembrances for her on my ancestor altar. And at Samhain in the fall I will say my words, when it has been a year. I can be ok with that for now. The weekend will be rough, but I can be there for my family, especially my remaining sister.
And I have been writing. It's funny to realize how much of a measure of how 'ok' I am my writing habits are.
Mildmay has decided there has been enough introspection and it is now 'pet the cat time'. My lap and face being full of rather cuddly black cat, I find it hard to argue.
I miss my sister, terribly. There is a wrongness that skitters through every day. But there are remembrances for her on my ancestor altar. And at Samhain in the fall I will say my words, when it has been a year. I can be ok with that for now. The weekend will be rough, but I can be there for my family, especially my remaining sister.
And I have been writing. It's funny to realize how much of a measure of how 'ok' I am my writing habits are.
Mildmay has decided there has been enough introspection and it is now 'pet the cat time'. My lap and face being full of rather cuddly black cat, I find it hard to argue.
