Fruit Fly Elegy

This is going to sound really strange, but although I haven’t written any poetry in several days, I’ve been “thinking in poetry” the whole time.  I can’t really say I haven’t had time to write any…that isn’t it.  I sit here and start to write it but I don’t have a starting place so
the writing doesn’t happen.  I’m not sure why, but it’s annoying as heck. I’ve blogged some over the past few days, and I can’t say I’m displeased with what I’ve written; I just miss the poetry.  I’m sure it will return…it always does.

I’ve already tried to go to bed once tonight.  Started reading for a bit at about 9:30 and got so sleepy I couldn’t hold my eyes open so I doused the reading lamp and snuggled down for sleep.  Right.  I tossed and turned for the next hour, every sound startling me awake and leaving me shaking.  And for the oddest reason, this stupid…thing…keeps going over and over in my head every time I turn toward the dresser, where the remains of…well…

Fruit Fly Elegy

I killed a fruit fly just last night
Alas, he didn’t fall just right
Instead of making proper crash
He stuck right where I made the smash
So now when I would seek to sleep
My slumber never reaches deep
But waking oft, I’m drawn to look
At where I lately slammed my book
Against the dresser near my head
While I was reading late in bed
He didn’t even have the guts
To fall, so still he drives me nuts

Something tells me there are those who will wish my poetry had stayed lost.


March 2003

Sunday March 30, 2003

My Comfort

I want to freeze this moment and save it for a million more moments in my lifetime when I want or need to revisit it and touch its magic and taste its sweetness and hear it in this preciseness.  I lay there in his arms and the tears came so suddenly…an emotional response to the intensity of our sharing, our bodies connected perfectly as God dreamed them.  Confusion and concern crossed his face as I shook my head, reassuring him nothing was wrong…no, everything was right.  It was just…right.  He brushed my hair from my face with a tenderness that took my breath away, his eyes searching mine for a glimpse into my heart.

Tears commonly betray me, met with a fierce resistance from the depths of my resolve, but tonight…tonight they came and I welcomed them.  I cried and laughed at the same time, embracing the paradox of feeling coursing through my being at that moment, capturing the love and desire and relief and bliss of being there with him in our perfect moment.  His arms tightened around me, holding me to himself like a priceless treasure.  We didn’t need any words.

Phrases from the love song playing in the background floated through my consciousness, their words unobtrusive and strangely comforting…In this sweet madness…oh, in this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees…when you’re pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie…you’re in the arms of the angel; may you find some comfort here.

I will rest in the arms of an angel tonight.  Morning’s light will find me nestled safe there, and then a thousand mornings to come, each sunrise graced, kissed, perfectly traced by the finger of God.

I’ve found my comfort here.

Posted 3/30/2003 at 1:55 AM


Lisa, you are awesome!!!!  Your writing is so, well, no words, really to describe it…you are just awesome!!

Love you muchly,


Posted 3/30/2003 at 1:40 PM by momi26kdz

Lisa…wow is all I can say sweetie…you captured so beautifully the moment and the love you both share…you are such a blessing to me…always.  Rhonda (ladigrace)

Posted 3/30/2003 at 10:56 PM by ladigrace

Lisa Darlin’ – this is so beautiful.  Your gift of writing is such an encouragement and blessing to all - and to those of us who have gotten lost in the busyness and frustration of life…feeling a bit like we’ve lost some of that special connection – thank you so much for sharing your heart.  Love You – NeetersÂ

Posted 4/2/2003 at 11:24 PM by Neetz41

Congratulations! This blog has been nominated for ZangaZine and appears in this week’s issue!


Posted 6/6/2003 at 11:39 AM by ZangaZine

Friday March 28, 2003


you can read something and it sort of cuts at your heart.  It doesn’t mean it was written with the intent to hurt, but it still does.  It spurs that nagging voice…you know, the one that whispers your weaknesses into your ear and exploits your failures.  The one that says, “Yeah, it’s over, but is it?” and broadsides you with doubt.

Sometimes you can read words that if nothing else keep you broken and pliable in the Father’s hands.

Which isn’t a bad thing, I guess.

Posted 3/28/2003 at 6:1 PM


I can sure relate to this! Beautifully said…
PattiePosted 3/29/2003 at 11:26 AM by pattierwr

Oh sweetheart…  I’m so sorry…  ((hugs))  I hope you feel a bit better now…  Jojo

Posted 3/30/2003 at 1:2 PM by jhaagens

Friday March 28, 2003

My happies for today (so far):

My hubby loves his job.

My 17YO has an awesome new job as a sports writer for a major newspaper, with his first shadow assignment tonight.

My granddaughter is precious.

My kids are awesome.

I have great friends.

I feel beautiful.

I still have one day of spring break week left.

I have a new resolve regarding some issues I’ve been dealing with.

I feel silly today.

I have peanut M&M’s.

Nattie made me a beautiful card.

I got three great books at Goodwill last night for 75 cents each.

I got Luke a brand new briefcase and a new laptop case in new condition, both for $10.

My husband left a rose on my desk.

I mailed a package to my mom and brother.

I got center-cut pork chops for .99/lb. (and they were deelish!).

I’ve been doing some really cool photography lately.

I’m doing well on my Easter solo.

I woke up my hubby at 1am.

I had lunch yesterday with a friend I haven’t seen since high school.

God loves me.


Posted 3/28/2003 at 7:33 AM

Tuesday March 25, 2003

A face drawn with fatigue stared back at Audra from the white oak-edged mirror before her.  She reached up to brush an errant curl from her cheek, the movement almost hanging in the air like something she could touch.  She sighed, her eyes drifting downward with a sadness she hadn’t felt in a very long time.  I had this coming, she thought.  I have no one to blame but myself.

Change.  She hated the very word.  Why did it all have to change?  Why couldn’t she pretend she was still young and carefree and that schoolyard friendships still existed somewhere outside her too-vivid imagination?  Hot tears stung her eyelids, angering her in their audacity.  How she hated to cry.  She brushed the droplets away almost violently, wincing as she swiped at her cheek with the back of her hand.  She knew what she had to do.

Trembling fingers reached into the top drawer of her dressing table and pulled out a small fabric-covered box.  She lifted a single sheet of crisp white paper from the box, its scent filling her senses with deep regret.  Her favorite pen felt like an old friend in her hand as she lowered it to the empty page.  She wasn’t sure how the words would come, but she whispered a prayer that they would…and that somehow her heart would go on beating in the end.


Posted 3/25/2003 at 9:45 PM

Tuesday March 25, 2003

I’ve been sitting here thinking about my life.  Yeah, I know, sounds positively cliche.  Anyway, I’m looking ahead to the next few months and into the next year, wondering how I’m going to juggle:

~Babysitting my granddaughter

~Homeschooling and tutoring

~Our 8YO’s competition dance, modeling, and acting

~Our 12YO’s baseball (he moves up a division next year)

~Our 17YO’s senior year with high school football, weight lifting, (possibly basketball–he hasn’t decided), and his jobs at the museum and the Tampa Tribune (he has an interview tomorrow to join their staff as a sports writer), all of which will be helped by him getting his driver’s license, but that’s another whole deal for this mama’s heart!)

~Serving as vice-president of Christian Women’s Fellowship

~Working with the drama team

~Singing/acting in musicals

~Singing and playing on the praise/worship team

~Teaching creative writing classes

~Assisting with the church website

~Coaching the youth praise team

~Running my freelance writing/editing business

~Managing the Easterling home

…and that doesn’t even count any time for personal reading or journaling!


Organizational skills improvement, here I come…

Posted 3/25/2003 at 2:9 PM


I try to avoid thinking about my life because the only future I can come up with that does not involve cubicles is being a bum.

Oh well, good luck with yours.

–It’s all nice.

Posted 3/25/2003 at 2:24 PM by ItsAllDust

Sunday March 23, 2003

I should be in bed curled up to the handsome Italian who has characteristically given into the call of slumber far ahead of his night-owl wife.  Alas, I am here, writing, in the cool of post-midnight Florida spring.  I was beginning to think we’d completely skipped spring in favor of an early summer.  It’s nice to feel a March breeze visiting through the open window.  Those balmy, humid days and nights this early in the year have been all but annoying.

I talked to Glo and Donna for a long time tonight.  Wow, it was nice to talk to old friends again.  We talked about how we tend to lose touch with people we love, only to meet again at funerals when it’s too late to tell the departed how much they were valued.  When there are no moments left to share.  It shouldn’t be that way.  I think we’d all like to see that change.

I’ve been rather moody today, feeling introspective and private, teetering between wanting solitude and wanting to embrace the presence of others.  I’m so weird.  I’d like to blame it on the creative artist in me, but I think I’m just plain weird.

I’m getting sleepy (’bout time), so I’ll close for now.  There is much on my mind that I’ll try to make sense of later.  Aftah awl, tamorrah’s anuthah day.

Posted 3/23/2003 at 12:51 AM


Talking to old friends is important!  glad you got to do it.

Posted 3/24/2003 at 5:35 PM by prairierose

Saturday March 22, 2003

Morning has broken…in the most beautiful of ways. Steve and I began the day very intimately, with the house still quiet and hazelnut coffee candles burning and Kenny G playing on the Dream Machine.  We lay there, our bodies and hearts laced together in silken union, searching each other’s eyes, smiling, blushing with memory, sharing gentle kisses, tracing the contour of each other’s bodies and thanking God for these precious and few unrushed mornings together.

Then the house began to awaken a bit and there were cinnamon crunch bagels with butter and Cafe Vienna and Saturday morning cartoons playing in the living room while children giggled and we lingered in our bedroom to sip our coffee and enjoy breakfast together.  Life is a gift.

Posted 3/22/2003 at 11:21 AM

Thursday March 20, 2003

101 Things about Ladyblue


  1. I am an encourager.
  2. I am a good wife.
  3. I am a good mom.
  4. I love sports.
  5. I love scented candles, and can often be found tending them like many people tend their plants.
  6. I usually have anywhere from 10 to 70 library books out at any given time.
  7. I have five kids and they all love God.
  8. I became a mama at 17 and a gramma at 36, and love being both.
  9. I am trustworthy.
  10. I am a great cook.
  11. I love Mountain Dew so much I have to stay completely away from it.
  12. I look better than I did in high school.
  13. I played a trumpet solo in the 1979 Bucs/Eagles NFC Playoff game halftime show, to a crowd of 72,000.
  14. I love singing.
  15. My favorite hangout in the entire world is Barnes & Noble, where I love sitting in the Starbucks Café sipping a frappuccino.
  16. I am a creative writing instructor.
  17. I have taught my children at home for 15 years.
  18. I have the most romantic husband on the planet.
  19. I get great personal satisfaction from a good clearance sale.
  20. I love thong underwear.
  21. My last Valentine’s Day involved chocolate-dipped strawberries, whipped cream, long-stemmed cherries, various fruits, Enya music, a sensuous poem, dancing, and a black velvet teddy with fishnet stockings.
  22. One of the BEST gifts I’ve ever received is a little ladybug massager my mother gave me for Christmas.
  23. I read 3,409 words per minute in high school (with 90% comprehension).
  24. I love photography.
  25. I am great at drama.
  26. I have a vivid imagination.
  27. I have met Michael Card, Steve Taylor, Beakman, Thelma Wells, and Elisabeth Elliot, as well as members of Petra and Second Chapter of Acts.
  28. I love “Little House on the Prairie” and “The Waltons”.
  29. I have a wonderful relationship with my daughter.
  30. I love dancing.
  31. I have never colored my hair.
  32. I love fresh flowers surrounded by Baby’s Breath.
  33. I am a Florida native.
  34. I love the name “Chloe”, and will likely weave it into a fiction work at some point.
  35. I was a milk-carton kid—before milk cartons had kids on them.
  36. My oldest son received a personally written letter from Barbara Bush.
  37. I am a good friend (most of the time).
  38. I have a baby daughter named Heather Rose in Heaven.
  39. I am 70 pounds lighter than I was four years ago.
  40. My absolute favorite musical of all time is “Phantom of the Opera”.
  41. My favorite Disney movie is “Beauty and the Beast”.
  42. I suffered from depression in 1998…and lived to tell about it.
  43. My favorite pet, a black lab, Geordi, ran away five years ago.
  44. I love ham and cheese sandwiches on bread so fresh it sticks to the roof of your mouth.
  45. I won a writing contest in 5th grade and my prize was an 8-oz. Coke, which I got to drink in front of everybody while standing next to the teacher at recess.
  46. In high school, I was a member of a small private band playing music from the 30’s and 40’s.
  47. I type around 50wpm.
  48. One of my most vivid memories is riding (standing) in the front seat of Daddy’s light blue VW Bug, holding an 8-oz. bottle of Coke.
  49. I love writing romantic fiction.
  50. I love making and writing in journals.
  51. I love authentic Cuban sandwiches.
  52. I am a great lover (hubby said so).
  53. I love being organized.
  54. I love Enya.
  55. I was one of the circa-70,000 people at Raymond James Stadium to welcome home the 2002 World Champion Tampa Bay Buccaneers.
  56. I love Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter.
  57. I love reading the Bible, and one of my favorite verses is Ephesians 4:29.
  58. My favorite Psalm is 139.
  59. In 10th grade I could name all the presidents and tell one fact about each.
  60. I am learning (and teaching my kids) American Sign Language.
  61. I love Little Debbie brownies.
  62. I am writing four different books at once.
  63. I love storms.
  64. My favorite number is 13.
  65. I miss my dad.
  66. I am a night owl.
  67. I love solitude.
  68. I have a metal plate in my forehead from a car accident at age five, where my skull was crushed by…you guessed it…an 8-oz. Coke.
  69. I love smiling mischievously in public at random times to make people curious.
  70. My 12-year-old son leads his Little League team in prayer before each game.
  71. My favorite place to eat is Young Bin’s Chinese Restaurant.
  72. My heart skips a beat when my eyes meet my husband’s across a room.
  73. I have met eight online friends in person.
  74. I have led the RealChristianWoman e-group since RealHaus was born almost 4 years ago.
  75. I am going to be working soon on updating my website at
  76. My favorite music group is Third Day.
  77. My favorite praise/worship song is “God of Wonders”.
  78. The most quoted movies in our house are “The Princess Bride”, “Young Frankenstein”, “The Jerk”, “Mixed Nuts”, and “Coming to America”.
  79. My favorite TV show of all time is “Dinosaurs”.
  80. My favorite sport is football.
  81. I have a poem featured on
  82. I dream of one day speaking to crowds of thousands.
  83. I am looking forward to publishing books.
  84. I have a children’s book, Trevor’s Dragon, in queue to be e-published.
  85. I love chicken wings with ranch dressing.
  86. I use tea tree and peppermint shampoo.
  87. One of the most beautiful and memorable times of my life was our Treasure Island vacation last year.
  88. The fictional character I’ve created who is most like myself is Lady Alyssa Chamberlain of Rosemist.
  89. I just love the word “onomatopoeia”.
  90. My favorite actors are Antonio Banderas and Meg Ryan.
  91. I have been inside the Sabian cymbal factory.
  92. I have memories from before I was two.
  93. I am inspired by the life story of J.K. Rowling.
  94. My favorite Biblical character is Esther.
  95. My memoirs-in-progress are entitled I Hope I Made You Smile.
  96. I am married to an Italian who is only second-generation American.
  97. Husband involved in drama + wife involved in drama = awesome fantasies.  
  98. I am living proof that God has a sense of humor.
  99. My dad helped build Interstate 10 in Alabama.
  100. I love my family more than I can begin to describe.
  101. I don’t even like Coke.

Posted 3/20/2003 at 10:44 PM


Your writing is incredible.

Your picture is beautiful.

Your life is amazing.

You are a very interesting and blessed woman.  We were on CJ together, but I still feel like I do not really know you.  Perhaps I will check out your website.

Posted 3/21/2003 at 3:4 AM by sonshyne7

Me too on the clearance sales.  Its a total high for me to get an awesoem deal.  Corey laughs.  In 8th grade, I wrote a song with all the presidents’ names in it, so I could pass a test.  LOL!  Corey’s fave group is Third Day.  He just traded in some CDs for their new one.  Tell your dad thanks for the interstate.  Where in Bama?

<>< Heather ><>

Posted 3/21/2003 at 9:31 AM by mommyheaver

Great list!
I found you through CJ. Have a great weekend!


Posted 3/21/2003 at 12:44 PM by pattierwr

I’ll say it again…Lisa, you are an amazing woman.

Nat (who sent all these CJ people to your blog!)

Posted 3/21/2003 at 7:15 PM by nattiewrites

Hey Lisa,

I am amazed at how much we have in common! I have been thinking about how much I miss your heartwords and will have to come back soon. I miss hearing from you but am loving keeping up with you through your xangablog. Your heart is so sensitive and your words so piercing. I love to read what you have to say. Come see me at my new blog if you get the chance and I’ll see you on groups .

~Leann (from JOB)

Posted 3/22/2003 at 12:18 AM by DesertDaisy

Thursday March 20, 2003

I cried for her today.  I sat and listened as the stories were recounted one by one.  Women who had been abused and manipulated and ignored and tormented and terrorized and belittled and blamed and ridiculed and blackmailed and beaten down and beaten up and imprisoned by the bars of their own fears.  Women who loved so much they couldn’t leave despite the pain.  Women who had loved and endured for years and finally faced the risks to their own lives and those of their children.  Women who would’ve given anything to pull themselves out of the hell where they lived without divorce…but made the decision to take that step, only to find their friends were suddenly gone.  Women whose self-worth has taken a nose-dive.  Women who have considered ending their lives…and just might have done so, were it not for the children cowering in the next room.  Women who live a double life, existing somewhere between “have to cover the truth and appear the perfect family” and “God, what can I do to get out of here?”.  Women who lay awake at night unable to sleep, their minds racing through a million emotions from anger to anguish, retracing every step and decision, wondering what they could’ve done…or not done…or done differently, to keep this from happening.

I listened today and the tears fell, and mine weren’t the only ones.  Mine were for all the women in the stories, but they were mostly for my friend.  My friend who lives too far away for me to hug but close enough in my heart that I hurt for her and for her babies.  She doesn’t deserve hatred or abandonment or even toleration.  She deserves to not have to live in two hells: the one she is in by circumstance, and the one she entered the day she said “enough” and watched those she loves begin to drop off like flies.  She deserves understanding and compassion and help.  She deserves a listening ear that isn’t attached to a mouth that feels a necessity to point out her flaws; arms to hold her, but not eyes leveled at her in thinly veiled suspicion and piety.  She deserves happiness.  And not just that calm that comes when things are going okay.  She deserves to laugh and dance and roll in the grass and enjoy life.  She deserves love.

I can’t be there to hold my friend in my arms, but I can listen.  I can tell her that even though I’ve never been where she is, I can pray hard for her and wish her good things and believe in her.  I can tell her how much I love her.  I can think of her.  I can pull for her.

And I can cry for her.  Her pain, at the very least, deserves my tears.

Posted 3/20/2003 at 3:46 PM


Congratulations! This blog has been nominated for ZangaZine and appears in this week’s issue!


Posted 5/31/2003 at 9:36 AM by ZangaZine

That’s true friendship indeed.

Posted 6/2/2003 at 1:38 AM by candlescents

Crying with you, sweet lady.



Posted 6/5/2003 at 5:32 PM by Skip2myLu


Love You!!


Posted 6/5/2003 at 6:35 PM by DancinButterfly

Saturday March 15, 2003

Rosie and I had the most incredible time together at the Victorian Tea today.  I watched her moving around in her pale blue dress, her skirt billowing out so little-girl-like, her eyes dancing.  My heart felt like it could burst just from intensity of feeling.  I did her hair in a lovely old-fashioned style, parted down the middle with the sides twisted toward the middle resembling two braids that met at the back in a small knot adorned with a blue silk butterfly.  One look at her made it easy to see…she felt beautiful.

I sat there today, my gaze wandering from her sweet smile to the photos sitting in front of me.  I found the idea of bringing pictures of two important people in our lives a good one.  Our theme was “Memory Garden”, and I thought it appropriate to bring pictures of my two daughters: one I had to kiss goodbye too soon, and one who smothers me with kisses several times a day.  I marveled at her exquisite little face, her perfect little fingers curled around her china teacup, pinkie pointing out ever so elegantly, her nose wrinkling up at her gallant attempt to enjoy warm tea–her first.

Teatime was never so precious.

Posted 3/15/2003 at 8:41 PM


Lisa is wonderful and what a precious time you and Rosie had.  I love you both so much…hope you know that.

Love,  Rhonda

Posted 3/16/2003 at 8:51 PM by ladigrace

I hope I have a little girl for reasons like this.  Mostly I want boys, but I would love to do things like a Victorian Tea and probably won’t have much opportunity with my stepdaughter.  SOunds like a wonderful day.

<>< Heather ><>

Posted 3/17/2003 at 1:14 PM by mommyheaver

Thursday March 13, 2003

I will never forget sitting in a wheelchair at the hospital curb on April 18th, 1990.  I sat there with my heart on the pavement while one after another mother was wheeled past me, their precious little blanketed bundles held snugly in their arms while mine lay lifeless in a room upstairs where nurses thoughtfully and tearfully applied enough makeup to keep her from looking dead just so they could get her first–and last–picture.

I will never forget the unfairness that settled over me or the anger that brewed just below the surface or the sadness that loomed over me like a weeping willow.  I remember how she felt in my arms, how I longed to breathe life back into her sweet little body as I cradled her.  I remember Steve’s husky voice whispering, “Give Jesus a hug for me, baby” just before her tiny chest stilled.  I remember looking deeply into his eyes, our questions as big as a canyon between us.

I remember screaming at God and beating on His chest and hating.  I remember my longing echoing back to me from somewhere beyond myself.  I remember deciding the only way I could cope would be to die with her.  I remember begging my best friend to help me do it.  I remember the anquish in her eyes as she shook her head and cried.  I remember realizing she was right; no matter how badly I was hurting, I couldn’t leave my husband and two sons behind.

I remember the day I realized I was going to be okay.  I remember smiling and then feeling guilty for it, then finding the smiles coming more and more often and with less and less pain.  I remember the joy of bringing two more beautiful little boys into the world, healthy and wonderful.

I remember the day, five years later, when I gave birth to our precious little Rose-bud in our very own bed.  I remember her little round body, pink and full of life, so real and beautiful and perfect.  I remember crying and holding her and never wanting to let go.  I remember my whole world turning pink.

Today, I remember.  And I wonder at God’s love that saw me through pain to peace and joy.

Posted 3/13/2003 at 12:8 AM


Well, dank.  KLEENEX WARNING.  I can totally feel your angel.  My cousin’s daughter died in the womb at 8 months pregnant.  She felt her dying kick and had to go through all of the labor and everything, and I can remember being so confused.  WHy do babies die?  I am glad you found a way to go on.  I’d have miss ya.

<>< Heather ><>

PS Rosie would have missed ya too.

Posted 3/13/2003 at 12:36 PM by mommyheaver

ok, I can’t type.  “Dang” and “Anger”


Posted 3/13/2003 at 12:36 PM by mommyheaver


You have such a way with words. I could feel myself sitting in that chair. I’m glad that God comforted you so you can comfort others.



Posted 3/13/2003 at 12:52 PM by nattiewrites

Huggs honey,

Sad but beautiful

Posted 3/13/2003 at 3:58 PM by DancinButterfly

Wednesday March 12, 2003

My friend, Debbie died Saturday.  Cancer took her life not long after her 40th birthday.  I can’t talk about cancer.  I can’t talk about death.  I can’t face it.  I should be able to, but I can’t.  Something happened to me the day Joyce died.  Something vital in me left with her.  I think it was my ability to face serious illness head-on.  Maybe one day I’ll be able to.

But today, I can’t.

Posted 3/12/2003 at 12:49 AM

Wednesday March 12, 2003


I love the “look” of this site…the blue captures the “me” in me somehow.  Tonight I am a mixture of emotions…deep contemplation mixed with annoyance, anxiety, curiosity, stress, fatigue, and (oddly enough) hope.

I find it almost intriguing, the thought of maintaining a public blog.  I mean, I’m writing four or five books at once, and if I put everything here, what will that mean for the books that should hold it all?  Perhaps here I can flesh out the myriad ideas so they’ll make sense as I “massage” them into some kind of sensible book form…?

I have many words tonight but sadly not much energy, so this entry will be brief.  Hopefully the ones to come will be more in-depth…or at least be worth the few moments it takes to read them.

Posted 3/12/2003 at 12:1 AM

Not Today

My friend, Debbie died Saturday.  Cancer took her life not long after her 40th birthday.  I can’t talk about cancer.  I can’t talk about death.  I can’t face it.  I should be able to, but I can’t.  Something happened to me the day Joyce died.  Something vital in me left with her.  I think it was my ability to face serious illness head-on.  Maybe one day I’ll be able to.

But today, I can’t.

First Thoughts

I love the “look” of this site…the blue captures the “me” in me somehow.  Tonight I am a mixture of emotions…deep contemplation mixed with annoyance, anxiety, curiosity, stress, fatigue, and (oddly enough) hope.

I find it almost intriguing, the thought of maintaining a public blog.  I mean, I’m writing four or five books at once, and if I put everything here, what will that mean for the books that should hold it all?  Perhaps here I can flesh out the myriad ideas so they’ll make sense as I “massage” them into some kind of sensible book form…?

I have many words tonight but sadly not much energy, so this entry will be brief.  Hopefully the ones to come will be more in-depth…or at least be worth the few moments it takes to read them.