another winter weekend looms, with not much going on. i go upstairs and prop myself up on my elbow inches from tim's pillow. are you sleeping?

"um."

we need a plan. and we need more joy. we are blowing it. time is short. time is fast. we have everything anyone could want right here, and we are blowing it.

(one eye open.)

our stress, while not of our own choosing, is of our own making, to some degree. let's ignore the things we can't control, and crumple up and light a match to the stress we bring on ourselves.

"yes. um. when are we doing this?"

now. yesterday. we need to be joyful. i need to be joyful, or else it all becomes laundry and lost mittens and asking five times of someone what should be done on the first go. all worry. no happy.

"but we have stress. life is hard." (both eyes open now.)

it isn't about not having stress, or pretending life isn't hard. it's about finding the joy anyway. (i'd had a lot of tea this morning.)

"how do the french say it?"

joie de vivre.

"@#$%& !"

ok, then: joy.

"ok, then."

::

bring me:
good long walks and talking and laughing. maybe even embarrassing, snorting laughter. chocolate cake and fresh paint. back rubs and girls telling me about their day. dark red wine and second helpings. new books and guitars and kissing. movies set in paris. quiet. good bread. a task done. friends stopping by. toast. napping. big sweaters. real mail. around the block once before bed. pasta. old photos. new music. berries in a berry bowl. warmer winds. longer light. love.

joy. happy weekend! thanks for reading.
tt