"One Little Candle"

I've been avoiding writing--and singing: because then I would have no excuse not to write. I haven't wanted to write because I didn't want to whine. I'm very tired of complaining to myself, and to any adult friend that comes within range. I'm having trouble thinking positive, or long term.

This song: well, it's not so bad, really. It's hard for me to get on the Hope Wagon these days, but it doesn't mean that the Hope Wagon has stopped its loop through my life. Sure, small things are good.

I am doing little things, lighting candles in my own way. I find it much easier these days to deal with finite projects: knitting small socks, reading books, loading the dishwasher, making the bed. Infinite, or seemingly infinite projects are harder, and this includes a lot of things that I really want to be working on, but I can't quite seem to start. I want something that I can see completed.

That, or I just want to make it through the next argument with my daughter, staying firm: no, you may not (watch TV/have a brownie) until you (clean up your papers/eat lunch/ask politely and calmly). It takes most of my energy to make it through those 'discussions', and then suddenly she's off singing to herself, or playing with her dolls, like it never happened. Then I'll hop in the shower and she's suddenly hysterical about a toy that she lost at a friend's house last year. This age is very strange.

It is a good sign, though, that I'm playing more piano again. I even had a Bach breakthrough, thanks partially to my husband's wisdom. Still practicing my mandolin (haven't lost the calluses yet), and cataloging songs that I'd like to learn, or sing with my group, or try out with the all-girl band. I've been very lucky to have been able to vent a bit to some dear people recently, who listened patiently, and even seemed willing to listen again, if need be. And I'm still knitting socks.