I've found it difficult, writing. Not on an ability stance, but on subject matter. I have so many wondrous things happening, so many beautiful people touching my life...yet, when I write, it is the quieter, sadder feelings that come through. The quieter, sadder feelings that maybe I don't give enough credence to in the spoken word.

The above picture was taken at Devil's Lake. Practically the first time I spoke with Nick, he vowed to take me there. I remember his expression of disbelief upon learning that not only do I love to hike, but that I have a keen fondness for nature, and yet, being a Wisconsinite, had not partaken of Devil's Lake.



For the first time in months, I felt as though I could breathe with full breaths.

The excursion came to me on a day when I was beginning to suffocate.

I gave up my position as team captain for Relay for Life...did I tell you? I suppose it was about a week ago that I cried into Debbie's arms with the weight of everything I felt too inept to accomplish. Brenda, being softer than she'd like people to know, circled me from behind, and I felt sustained by their combined strength and nurturing. Debbie took care of it, and while I still feel like a lousy slacker, I can admit that my head aches less, even if only marginally. It's tough struggling against the ropes you yourself tied.

The toughest.

I ran in the Crazy Legs run just last Saturday. I wasn't thrilled to do it...I was a poor sport and I owe Nick a huge apology for my bad mood...because it was one of the most thrilling experiences in my life...running among 10,000 others and feeling the Earthbound binds tear as I set my soul free.

I returned home afterwards and doped up on sleeping pills...it had been so long since I've slept more than a couple of hours together. They didn't work. I spent the entire afternoon laying in bed with my eyes closed, as Pride and Prejudice, the movie my mother and I so dearly loved last December, played twice from my television. It comforted me, absorbing something that I know my mother loved, something we shared. Maybe the comfort was too precious for me to lose to sleep.

Nick called early-evening, asking if I would like to join him and his friends for dinner. "No," I said, achy and so very tired. He called again a little later, just taking a moment to chat after dropping a friend off and having his SUV to himself once more. With very little coaxing, I agreed to be social after all...and it was a much nicer way to spend the evening than the sullen course in which I was otherwise enrolled.

And Sunday, I rested. I was able to relax deeply. Nick and I covered most of the East Side looking for an open coffee shop...and ended up at Einstein Bros, then a little shopping, a fruitless search for a 2-pack of "C" batteries, before catching a movie. On the return, Nick suggested, "Maybe you could blog while I catch up on some laundry?" Nick feels guilty, I get the impression, because of my lacking entries. He added then, though, "But I look at it as a good thing...that your life is so full that you don't have time to write."

Indeed. I have no problem living for awhile and slacking on the documenting. Especially with the wolves of unsolicited advice and opinionated strangers recently emerging. The blogging community has been very supportive in this matter...apparently it's a rite of passage. In any event, it's time to go to work. Until next time....