Mirrored from Marsha Sisolak.
We’re slowly regathering ourselves here. My two sisters and I cleared out much of Mom’s house last weekend. It was good to be with them and laugh. It was good to be there and tear up together. Our goal of leaving as little as possible for my only in-town sister to deal with was successful. Seven stuffed carloads of donations. Furniture and much of the remaining possessions were gifted away.
A niece who had separated herself from the family seems to have rejoined us. I hope it lasts because it would have made Mom happy to have her back.
Tears still catch me unaware, but I’m burying myself in school. It’s a slow process this year; I’m taking time to think and stare at the room. Something I did not have time for last year. I have yet to nail down my iPad plans for the classroom now that we have a set of six to share, but there’s no rush until I get the class under control. And this will be a year of drama most likely: the ratio of girls to boys is 2:1. We will spend most of the spring dealing with “I won’t be your friend if…” and other small manipulative tricks.
Boys. Boys punch or kick and get it out of their systems. Two minutes later, they’re best friends again. Girls can hold onto perceived slights for a long time and will retaliate when you don’t expect it.
I managed to send Charlie a story for F&SF today. The rewrite is the only thing I accomplished for the Clarion Write-a-thon, but I’m not chastising myself for being a slacker. I did the best I could do under the circumstances. I’m not returning to the novel yet. Another unfinished short story crawled out of the pile and is insisting I write it. It’s about how we carry love within us, even after the loved person is gone… how we let go, and how we move on.
I wrote the damn thing eight years ago? Maybe longer. And the fact that it’s appropriate for today makes me sad, and at the same time, willing to stare it down and face what pain it may engender.
I’m still tired, but not as much as I had been. Five o’clock is far too early for humans to revive and be productive. I hope to regain control of that by next week, when I won’t have the option to roll over and go back to sleep.
The fact that Disney is planning a movie based on A Wrinkle in Time thrills me no end. I hope it’s a good translation to the big screen–the book deserves one.