Barnacles

I'm back, home is good and these little suckers are mostly all alive, you know. as are we. just waiting for the waters to return.

This is the house, the vacation house, the old cottage on the beach, wherein my children play all day long without the benefit of a single screen not made for bugs... the picture is taken from the sand. yes, yes it is.

This is my boy who is 7. gingerly moving his first-day-feet through the rockbound periphery. i'm on his periphery, collapsed on a rock behind him. 

  and this is what his shadow looks like through a lens.  although i don't see it that way most of the time.   he is a child of wild anxiety, and overbound with rules and following them.  some say it is a characteristic of the oldest, i recognize it as a characteristic I had as a child. (not the oldest) - a different type of shadow.

this is one of the very few shots of myself at the beach, in the morning, at the picnic table... slightly dirty, already sanded, in recline rather than decline. 

so i am here, and waiting...

thats as much as i got today.

Will.

today is my 10th wedding anniversary. I am six months pregnant with my third child and 38 years old.  we are all on our way to the beach for something close to two weeks. There will be dozens of people keeping us company, keeping us distracted.  the children will have some more times of their lives. I will drink tea in the early morning and look out on the water from the front porch.  I go on a journey to see Chakra Carol, even from the beach, so I can be cleared out and bolstered up for this highly social sabattical.  I am hoping to find quietude and surety in the wallflower game I will play this year.  I will try not to spend my time wishing I were more adept at chatter and alcohol. It is exhausting.  I will walk on the beach with my kids, I will ask them, to no avail, to be careful on the rocks.  Parallels seem only to exist in the mind.  Where is a true parallel in nature?  or will?  fallacy. flail, you see. I will journal and I will read, because there is much empty time.  There is no television and no game but dominos. The house we have stayed in these past years is being sold shortly after we will leave. There will be many photos taken.  It is end times.  So many are gathering.  It is a matter of will as to how we all survive.  and by we, I mean Me. 

humph

man, there is so much sadness over here... like a rock in my throat and i can't really talk about it and I want to write beautifully and show you beautiful pictures of my boy jumping in his bouncy house on his 7th birthday but i didn't take any beautiful pictures, and the sweat running down my brow and his at the time made everything blurry. and we are sad, and some mistake it for pregnancy weepy and maybe it is a shared phenomenon, wherein being 5 and a half months pregnant make my boundaries permeable and my cells are sharing their sadness with each other in a new way, the walls opening up to each other in a way my words can't seem to.  but man, i would like this to pass. . . in a real and substantial and not-likely-to-repeat-in-a-week way, but i have no faith in that, and i am trying to figure things out and realizing the limits of my brain on this one, because my heart is so involved.  as it should be, which doesn't help, because i can't seem to speak that language any more.  and i'm not 'right' and i'm not 'at peace' and there just doesn't seem to be an answer and so i am waiting . . .