#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Wave, to my daughter: How do firefighters get so brave?

My daughter to her son: I’m not sure. . .

Wave, to my daughter: I think they get it from their moms.

It’s 6:00 a.m. and there is someone in my room, beside my bed, turning my fan off, climbing in.

Thank you, Grammy, for the spaghetti. I loved it. I had more of it before bed last night.

Then he is instructing me: There’s a toy in my ear, he says, into mine. Pull it out.

I don’t know this game. I try to pull a toy out of his ear. No toy comes out. He shows me exactly how to hold my fingers so I can pull it out. I try again. No toy.

So, we wrestle. We try to throw each other (safely) over the side of the bed. I win. I win again. I win again. We’re having fun.

Then we’re outside. He’s on his bike. We’re racing around. We’re lost in time. His mother calls from the house. It’s time for school. He has not had breakfast. Somehow I make the quickest dipping egg in the world and pack it for the car.

I somehow find the key to open my newest poem. I have a decent draft that I send off for workshop. The helpers came during my sleep.

I take a shortened walk to the river. No heron today. I’m preoccupied. I think I need time to catch up my thoughts from such a quick busy start to the day.

Workshop goes great. Not just my poem, but the poems and the process and the comments. And I feel good about my poem and seeing what needs to be done. It can be done.

I swim. I drive to Farm Pond. I have enough time, just enough time, for a half hour swim and the water is warm. The geese are huddling on the island and I send them off.

A lovely visit, tea on the deck with my dear friend.

Picking up Wave. Our day to go to the pool for a swim. In the water we play and play and his swimming is excellent.

Home to prep for my group, grab a bite to eat. I’m so happy about my group which started tonight. So rich. So deep.