It’s been a while since I’ve written online and in public, and I have no idea what the hell is going on in this draft.
Downtown was sexy and lively; this new place has a different kind of beauty. It’s a beauty I’m still figuring out, but it seems to be the beauty of breath and light, the beauty that snags your attention not to pull you along but to leave you right where you are: standing still and seeing.
a wet and cold evening. the boys played lacrosse in the rain. drenched and muddy, they filled up my car with quite the distinct aroma of boy sweat. and i couldn’t have been happier.
yesterday, my 11-year-old announced he was going to change his name to morgan freeman. i would be ok with that, except…
attention, grown-ups: we need to play more. we need to be silly. we need to goof-off. we need to stop censoring ourselves so much.
the pizza was strange and wonderful and delicious. though i’ll make a few tweaks on it the next time around, what doesn’t need anything different at all is this evening.
the boys love walking in the park. even though they are country boys and boys who’ve explored their mama’s stompin’ grounds in the maine woods, they still love downtown albany’s washington park. it’s their front yard when they’re with me.