It's just all kinds of happy to see that sort of talent. There's more.
Called The Ugly Duckling.
Have you ever seen such a good writing prompt as that last picture? Not me. Honestly, just adorable.
All this happy stuff is a sign. It's a sign that something changed.
First of all, I'm posting. It's because I think I should. Because the days are happy. It's time to bury all the old things and move forward. And it's time to stop rationalizing why I'm not posting. Blogs are meant to be written, not waste away. And besides. The Man is handing my ass to me in numbers. Just ain't write.
And look at my life:
I have a kitten that is OBSESSED with bread. Here is the little idiot stealing my bagel. He was ripping it about with his head, flopping it like a dead mouse. Three days before this, I picked up a box of Kentucky Fried bones I had on the couch to take to the huskies, only to discover the biscuit was missing. Odd. But then into the living room where the biscuit was EVERYWHERE. That's right--bread fiend passed over the chicken. You bet your ass I'm going to get video.
Here's a rainbow two weeks ago when I was walking around the neighborhood.
Here is a happy kid who thinks his new stepfather (pending) is the greatest dude alive. He comes home with the best grades, citations for being good, and is brimming with The Happy at his school. He was in agony back where we had to land after the divorce. The teacher there would tell him he was going to fail in front of his whole class all the while telling me she couldn't do anything for him. She was the first teacher in all the years my kids have been in school that I took exception to--after all, I was a K-8 major and a substitute teacher on and off--I have a good deal of understanding how hard it is. But I would never treat a student like that. And she shouldn't have either. Everyone told me that Aslan was in a "good school." I think they meant "lily white." My son is in a classroom where he is a decided minority (one of two white kids) and is the happiest I have ever seen him. Take that, racism. Take that, having spent a lifetime in Mississippi and being told Those People This and Those People That.
Here I am completing a sock for a Very Tall Man on 0's. No pattern, seamless, toe up. And I am working on the second one because I'm going to enter the pair into the fair and I am bloody going to win. Cause there ain't much competition in this little neck of the woods, and I better get to knitting.
This is a view of my backyard. My desk is just to the left of the frame. I sit at my desk and watch this:
And despite the adjustments, despite the setbacks, despite not having a dream job, despite having been dealt certain blows, it's all good.
And it's better when you decide just to let go and feel the good.