I had a dream the other night that I was visiting this touristy little town called Everitt. The main attraction was a castle surrounded by a flag lined fence. There was a celebration going on. Inside, lords and ladies dressed in wigs and fancy clothing were dancing in a grand ballroom. The next room was a huge gymnasium where we swam in the indoor wood lined swimming pool. Next to the castle was a beautiful park with a large lake. There were swans a swimming and lots of green grass and trees with lovely shady places. It was a gorgeous summer day. I have been dreaming of summer every night since then. I obviously miss it haha. 

It's musical time at school! This year we are doing Cinderella, which I think explains the rest of my dream. I have played for Cinderella before and unfortunately, it's not one I really want to repeat. We're only 2 weeks in and I already feel like the work I've done is too much and not worth it. The songs are becoming torturous earworms. Ugh. Not a good sign. But I'm going to try my best to have a good attitude about it and find some fun in the process. 

January can be such a drag. I feel like I've been struggling to get through each day. But it can also be a great time to hunker down and get some real work done. That inspiration has not hit me yet but maybe this week. I am giving myself permission to feel sad about things. Because that's how things go in January sometimes. I like this poem that has been popping up in my circles over the last week. It reminds me that time keeps marching on and soon enough, I will have survived another January. 

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.


  1. I missed this post and I adore those pictures and your dream. I have been seeing the Mary Oliver poem on her passing too. I know you will come out of this and be super creative soon. Feb is giving you a punch but soon grasshopper!!! :) hang in there.


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