Last Day of 34.

Every year on the day before my birthday, I think about what I've accomplished or experienced over the past year. Have I earned another year? At 34, I 

• read 43 books
• read 6 books to which I gave 5 stars on GoodReads
• homeschooled a child with special needs for weeks despite the fact that it literally almost killed me
• participated in remote learning including sticker math, pirate art, and superhero workouts
• conducted occupational therapy sessions with telehealth
• spoke up about my need to go to the hospital despite many good reasons to lie about it
• wrote about hospital stay and shared experience
• tolerated medication increase with side effects
• went out alone after hospital release
• saw 4 musicals, all new to me
• celebrated 7 years of buddyship
• paid off a large lingering cost of Oliver's therapy
• paid off all but one credit card
• wrote 62 blog posts
• wrote my first short story in forever
• lost 30 pounds
• said, "I love you," to someone new

Comfort Kits.

I have a list in my Decomposition spiral notebook called "Care Bags for Women in Distress." I started the bags when Josh was doing a local outreach for migrants. I subscribe to ipsy, so I end up with a lot of cute little bags. I use many of them to hold pens and sticky notes, but I don't love and can't use them all. So I got the idea from Josh's project to make little bags for women who want to live here. When the project ended, we started sending the bags to the border. 

I hope to send out care bags again next month. I should have enough bags, and I'll add all the stuffing to my Amazon subscriptions. I need to check the guest room to see if I have any leftovers from last time, but I don't think I do. I want to mail at least 10 bags, hopefully 12. Josh handles the mailing. 

He admires me, but I'm mostly glad to have a good use for the bags. And I like to give a spark of comfort to a woman in distress. A tissue with lotion, good lip balm, a pop-up hair brush (those flimsy hygiene-kit combs certainly can't handle my hair), a face wipe, a breath mint, a hair tie. Things I would want if I were stuck on a bus, on the street, in a shelter. It's not soap and toothpaste, but I figure most people send that. It's the next layer of need--getting your hair out of your face, soothing lips with something that smells good. It's what I didn't have in the hospital, when I was a woman in distress. I guess they're comfort kits. 

So if you have piles of ispy bags, there's an idea for how to use them. Or send them to me, and I'll be excited to use them. I usually only have enough bags to send a batch every few months. 

My Princesses.

Plenty of quizzes will tell you which Disney Princess you are. I can't decide which I am.

Moana: People tell me I'm brave. I don't take a lot of crap, not anymore.  Many of the lyrics from Moana resonate with me.  "They have stolen the heart from inside you/But this does not define you:" I've tried not to let the worst in my life turn me to ash, and if I see a piece of my heart glinting in the distance, I try to move toward it, even if I can only crawl. But I also feel proud of what I've survived and of the small family that I have, in at least one literal way, saved: "I've delivered us to where we are/I have journeyed farther/I am everything I've learned and more."

Merida: Well, I'm not nearly as angsty, rebellious, or reckless as Merida. But if you look at me at seventeen...yeah, all of that. And I even had semi-wild curly hair. I also have a close relationship with my mother that was hard-won.

Rapunzel: I feel more like her right now, having barely left my tower in weeks. I feel terrible for her because she only had a few books--definitely not one of my problems. But she was able to entertain herself, even enrich herself, and I can usually do that too. I have no visually artistic ability. I do have a lot of hair.

Tiana: I love how she went after her dreams and found love along the way. I've usually done the opposite. But Josh and I did meet because we had the same poetry and drama classes. I am no cook. But I do look good in green.

Mulan: I'm not nearly as courageous or self-sacrificing as Mulan. But I definitely remember feeling (and maybe still feel now and then) that I could "never pass for a perfect bride/Or a perfect daughter."

Pocahontas: Oh dear. I don't really feel qualified to comment on this, what with the historical inaccuracies and how long it's been since I saw the movie, but I'll try. I'm not a great peacemaker, activist, or conservationist. I do believe that I tend to make people think differently.

Jasmine: Aladdin was never one of my favorites, but Jasmine's pretty great. She's a firecracker. I have some of her sass. I tend to believe boys I love are capable of great things...and they get there. I can be more forgiving than I expect or even like.

Belle: She is the most obvious choice. She's a brunette, and she loves books! Unlike Belle, I don't really yearn for adventure. Like Jo March, I confine my adventures to the page, reading it or writing it. Belle is also self-sacrificing, and I don't have a ton of that in me. She and I don't have a lot of patience for blustering men. I do not look good in yellow. I have a lot of clothes, and Belle gets the most extensive wardrobe of any Disney princess in my memory. The blue and white outfit, the yellow gown, the green dress, the pink dress, the deep-rose cape... Usually, they just get a "peasant" dress and a princess dress, and maybe a wedding gown.

Ariel: She's pretty selfish (shellfish?), and I am too. I'm definitely a collector like Ariel--books, journals, fairy tales, makeup. I'm determined and single-minded in love, and I pretty much overturned my world to be with Josh. I'm not the best swimmer, and I have no official swimming skills, but I can tread water for a long time.

Aurora: I have been enormously sleepy lately. But people tend to forget who Aurora was before the *prick.* Nature does not adore me, and I don't adore it. I do sing a lot, though again, birds don't envy me. I don't often go barefoot because there's goose poop outside and Oliver's magazine shreds inside.  I fantasize constantly, and then, reality makes me nervous, like that perfect prince in the woods. Aurora grieved the loss of him, but he was her betrothed! I do believe I ended up with the person I was meant to be with all along.

Cinderella: Cinderella has always been my favorite. I'm not even sure why. The soft animation with so much white and blue and pink...the dreamy opening song ("You wear an air of queenly grace...If you give your heart a chance/It will lead you to the kingdom of romance...The sweetest story ever told..."), the illustrated story book ("Peaceful, prosperous, and rich in romance and tradition..."), the glimpse of her father, the willowy ice blue castle, the white coach.... Anyway, Cinderella and I have little in common. She is kind, patient, and hard-working. I'm not nearly so much. I would have despaired or run away in her situation. And I don't care for parties. But she does embrace her feelings (betrayal, heartbreak, enchantment, love), which I hope I would try to do even if it were more optional for me.

Snow White: I dyed my hair black to be a not-so-Disney version of Snow White. We certainly share a fair complexion. I love a good red lip stain. When I was little, I would ask older boys to "pick me up like Snow White!" Again, I'm not deeply connected with nature and don't know how to get animals to help me clean. I would not volunteer for a situation that required me to handle all the cooking and cleaning (back to that never passing for a perfect bride bit). I can barely handle having seven people in my life; I can't imagine seven small men. But I am a dreamer and a wisher.

So, what do you think?

Coming to Poetry.

I credit a brief high school boyfriend with my coming to poetry. 

In 9th grade, I got a bit of a reputation at my small Christian school because I liked boys, and I liked to kiss them. But one boy in particular filled the world with stars for a few weeks. 

When he broke up with me, starlight was over. Many years later, I found out that our breakup had little to do with me, but at the time and for years after, I believed it was because of something I'd done (or been) wrong. 

My grief was massive. I was carrying all this pain and whatever version of wild love a fourteen-year-old girl can experience. 

I began to write poems--dreadful, derivative poems based on show tunes and Journey lyrics. He saw some of them, which is a little mortifying, but it's also satisfying to know that he must have caught some fractured glimpse of how I felt. So the pressure eased a little. 

Because of this experience, I began to see poetry as a container (a glass jar, a cardboard box, a metal safe) that could hold a feeling, an image, or a moment that I could no longer bear on my own. 

Small Essentials.

• string
• mounting squares
• poster board (you always end up needing it for some weird reason)
• Static Guard (good for tights and on a brush for straying hair)
• Downy Wrinkle Release
• Woolite Dry Cleaner's Secret (also good if you leave wet laundry too long, and it gets a little Clooney)
• miniature bells and rosettes
• three or four sizes of Sharpies in black and at least one other color
• colorful markers and pencils
• construction paper
• paper straws
• magnifying glass
• baking soda
• lens wipes
• Puffs Plus Lotion
• small flashlights
• fine-tip craft glue
• sharpened pencils
• every size of batteries
• super glue
• lip balm in every room
• notebooks or notepads in every room
• books in every room
• pipe cleaners
• bobby pins
• rubber bands (preferably colorful)
• small ice packs
• Cribbage board and cards

2020: A Well-Read Year.

Last year, I had a few months with almost no reading at all. The lack of reading made me sicker, and rebuilding the practice was slow and difficult. I need help staying on track. Not reading means repressing and hurting a large part of myself. Largely because of that, and despite my hard work at the end, I didn't reach my 2019 reading goal. I'm bummed about that.

So this year will be different. Last year, my Reading Challenge on GoodReads was 50 books, which I still think is reasonable for me. I finished 44 books. So I'm taking those six unread books and adding them to this year's goal: 56 in total.

Remember, I want to read a total of 1,000 books before I turn 40. That won't be easy, but I still think I can do it. I certainly have great books to choose from.

Bruce and I have started reading I Can Taste the Blood (not as gruesome as it sounds I think), which is a collection of novellas based on those words, which one author noticed on a public bathroom wall. Inspiration is everywhere!

Every day counts. And I'm starting in on my winter focus, children's lit.

Word of the Year: 2020.

I chose this word months ago and knew I wanted to spend a year with it. The word has several, slightly different meanings. I can refer to trying something over and over to get better at it. It can refer to the set-up of a doctor's clinic and work. It can mean someone's dedication to something like meditation. It can refer to devoting time to a vital activity with no expectations of any kind of success (though the repetition becomes its own success) or reward (though rewards of a kind do come).

My word of 2020 is Practice. 

I think I will grow into this rich, multi-faceted word. I will practice journaling, reading, blogging (it could matter to someone), and loving (a massive goal I can approach in tiny steps). Even getting ready each day can be a practice if I pay attention and put in effort for the sake of myself and others I see that day.

I'm not going to post about my word weekly as I did last year. I'll just post I have something to share about my word, which may be more or less often. And I'll blog about whatever else is on my mind.

Today, I've been practicing blogging! I had a lot of catching up to do. A practice can be exhilarating but is more often (for me) a comforting weight, like Oliver's weighted vest.

When I think of practice, I think of going through my thesis yet again at a bistro table, dancing hard shoe in the garage, and reading Phantom all afternoon. I need recent memories!