...and the energy, time, clarity and strength to write them.
Right now, I’m immersed in Raising Demons by Shirley Jackson, her memoir about bringing up four young children in Vermont with her husband, also a writer.
I think they owned 10,000 books or at least cartons and cartons and stacks of them.
I marvel at how she did it all, truly, and also managed to find time at her typewriter without any regular child care. She writes of the milk man bringing quarts and eggs; the car breaking down on rural roads; the pay phone at the train station, 5 cents for 3 minutes; the endless succession of casseroles she makes. The jelly beans (!) she gives her two little girls at bedtime. The funny family nicknames. The ashtrays and the electric coffee percolator.
I love getting this insight into her family life.
Good night.
TCOY
- Texted new therapist to confirm P appt Monday. In true need of intervention.
- Relaxing shower/shampoo.
- Morning support group. Starting to weigh myself every Saturday morning. Number going in right direction.
- Good coffee brewed at home.
- Fresh cherries, baby spinach. Smoked salmon, but moderate portion, not pawfuls like a ravenous bear by a stream.
- Nap.
- Reading.
- Pause. Prayer. Listen.
Posts
Someplace in her rain, P is noticing that she is awful and you don’t leave, and she is terrible and you don’t leave, and she is unspeakable and you don’t leave. You don’t have to do or say perfect things, but keep on not leaving unless necessary to keep her safe. You are doing great, Alice.
ReplyDeleteLiz
Ps thanks for asking but my garden became a sad story, will fill you in soon.
Don’t remember if rain was supposed to be brain or pain but either works.
ReplyDeleteLiz, so wise! Hard won, that wisdom. And every garden is a sad story right now, with the deluges we’ve been having. Poison ivy every where.
ReplyDeleteAlice, Liz is so right. It’s a hard road you are on, but every day P is growing. Bless you!