I Love You More Today

moreI love you more today than yesterday.

Just when I think it is not possible to love you anymore than I already do, you manage to make my heart feel fuller than it has ever been.

It might be the look of concentration on your face as you build a block tower higher than yesterday’s. Or your confidence doing backwards rolls off the lounge that you weren’t able to do the day before. Or the new words that spill forth from your mouth that you didn’t know a short time ago.

My love grows as you do. Tomorrow you’ll show me more reasons to love you. You might tree-hug my leg when I’m least expecting it or tell me you love me just because.

No matter how much mess you make, how loud you are or how disagreeable you may be, as long as I don’t let tomorrow come without having told you I love you at least once, I’m happy.

I’ll love you for all of my tomorrows.

Image from: here.

Foot note: I re-read this today more as a reminder to myself than anything else. Tomorrow sees the school holidays start here in South Australia and I’m looking forward to the arrival of 2.15pm. Following that is 17 days where my primary responsibility will be entertainment coordinator to my two nuggets and writing will take a back seat. There’ll be no forgetting to say, ‘I love you’, but I might need to take many more cleansing deep breaths than normal.

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Love is in the Hands of Fate

Holding a heart in cupped hands. Love and health care concept.Did that song on the radio play just for me, right at that moment, for a reason? If I turn around three times on the spot while patting my head and rubbing my stomach will that make one iota of difference?

Fate revealed itself in the few short minutes it took to drive the post box last night. Or did it? You be the judge.

By nature, I’m not superstitious. Being born on the 13th I embrace black cats, limbo under ladders, scoff at broken mirrors, 13, is naturally, my favourite number and I leave umbrellas open inside to dry. Actually I’m not sure on the last one – I think it’s just considered unlucky.

Luck is not something I rely upon or base my life around. That may have to change though.

For the moment I’m sticking with fate and I hope it is kind to me. I’ve done everything in my power and now the lap of the gods is where my little manuscript sits. Yes, editors are god-like figures to me right now. Soon enough though, they may be compared to the devil.

My family and I started a new little ‘tradition’ that will precede every letter that leaves our house to make its way to a publishing house. Each of us sealed that letter with a kiss (I did wipe the boys’ faces first to make sure none of their dinner was evident on the envelope). I dressed for the occasion and grabbed my keys. The song on the radio in the car was turned up loud. One last check of the address as I stood at the post box had me hesitating. Post the damn letter. Someone you know might see you in your track pants and ugg boots. What were you thinking, leaving the house wearing them?

Deed done. Return home and think.

Stop thinking otherwise it’s going to be a long three months.

I threw in a bit of love for good luck. A new tradition/superstition has begun. Fate will play her hand in due course.

I’d love it if you could join in the lunacy. If it’s lucky undies or other nonsensical doings that are crucial to your fate, please share your superstitions with all 13 of us.

Post script-this song had me singing all the way to the drop zone. Sheppard are Australian and they’ll be sure to let me down easy.

 

Image from: here.

Love on a Deadline

When faced with a deadline in life, love or work what is your natural response?

Do you face up to it ready for a fight or do you shy away and go into flight mode?

After self-imposing a deadline on myself recently it has helped me to learn what kind of writer I am.

July 1 has arrived and for all in the southern hemisphere will be over in a couple of short hours. This was my deadline. The manuscript I wrote was supposed to have been placed safely into a depository we, in Australia, call a post box. It hasn’t left the building.

I struck a couple of hurdles today. Procrastination and Dissatisfaction.

While I believe I can deal with dissatisfaction to an extent, I cannot deal with procrastination.

There was a part of my story that I had been unhappy with from its conception. Until today I had no ideas that were even adequate.

My deadline it seems had worked its magic and forced me to think. Think hard and solve the issue.

So dissatisfaction has been taken care of but I have that lingering sense that procrastination had me putting off what could have been achieved last week and enabled me to post it TODAY.

My little four page picture book manuscript will leave my hands tomorrow but I am left with that feeling that procrastination will visit again and I need to be more prepared to deal with it. Putting kids and the family, the paid variety of work, blogging and feeding the goldfish first may need to change.

And just as an aside who decided that procrastinate should have the prefix pro? Who supports or is in favour of crastination? I love words and language but really? I am tempted to submit to Oxford that procrastination be changed to anticrastination.

Am I being too hard on myself missing my deadline by one day? Please share any tips you have for power-punching deadlines and assisting with anticrastination.

I need all the help I can get.

 

 

And can someone please make sure the goldfish are fed.

Image from: here.