It's not even 9:00 p.m. and I've been so active today I can't keep my eyes open to write. Charleston is enjoying waking me up with his little whining at 6:00 a.m. Which is nice, because I want to go out. And today I was walking and thinking about my new poem draft - after I blogged last night, before I went to sleep, I worked much more on my poem. I recorded it this morning to listen on my walk. After I listened a few times, I made a note for one tweak.
But my husband called me on my cell, invited me to meet him and my son in the woods for a ritual - regarding something my son is moving toward. I said sure, and met them near the river in our woods where I sat for a few moments on the forest floor. Brushing aside some pine needles I suddenly remembered the summer fun my sisters and I had playing house with my little brother's matchbox cars in roads we cleared among the pine needles outside my Aunt Marion's cabin in New Hampshire on summer days when we weren't on the beach. This may have led me to another insight about my poem. Tomorrow I will revise again, and see.