half heartedly

"She looks like you when she does that", he said.  That little She, is holding her head in her hands.  One arm propped on the table with the soft palm opened at a 90 degree angle, holds stable the base of her head, her precious chin.    The other elbow also set on the table, with the open palm stretched upright, comforting the side, length of her face.  She, to me, looks lost, half hearted at best.
Note to self... no longer set head in hands for any stretch of time.   In future, hold head high and remember, impressionable people are observing.  
*Set a good example.


I had good examples around me while I was growing up.  
I had these nifty gifties, called "sisters".  
One came here yesterday.


Sometimes I feel like coming to my home is an actual sacrifice for those who come.
I live far.
In the rain like yesterday's, it seems farther still.
I am in a state of transition, which infers mild duress on those emotionally close to me.  
I have youngish children, who refuse to condition their hair on their own and so there are interruptions.  
Dogs here behave badly.  They give themselves baths (you know what I mean).
Sometimes I feel exhausting to others.
Sometimes I feel like my life is so alive that I can't possibly impose it on those who's lives seem under control, even though they love me and want to be a part of it, want to be "here".
Oh boy.


Another She in my life, a grown up She came here for me yesterday afternoon   She, who is nearly perfect, was extremely giving and polite.  
She gave me encouragement. 
She gave us pumpkins.
She gave them cookies.
She and I went allllllll the way out to the movies, at night, to see a film she'd already seen, but she watched again anyway, for ME.  
She talked softly to me as we drove home in the dark, all the way to where I live.  She listened to me tell stories about the "horse with no name", who stood in the middle of the road one night.  About the boulder in my hot tub, the frog in my toilet.    She listened with all of herself, while I half heartedly talked about my whole, little life.
When we arrived home in the dark, in the rain, at my house, in the middle of nowhere, we got out of my car and walked to my entry door and found it literally covered with teeny frogs.  We laughed at them.    We laughed at my door, at my frogs, at my life, at this situation.  We laughed with all our hearts.  
She reminded me, without words, to embrace all my life, whole heartedly, because it goes by so quickly.  It goes by too fast.  
She made me notice myself, my life, my door, my night, my frogs, my life.  She silently pointed out to me the noticeably unnoticeable oddities of my everyday existence.   In her laugh were the words, "Don't waste it".   In my mind are the words, "I'll try not to...