Tenderized

I am not sleeping much lately. There's excitement about my family coming. I'm panicking about the many things I forgot to do that day. I'm listening to the new sounds of our newly-inside-dwelling cat, crashing into the wall near my bed as she races back and forth with her invisible friend in the dark. Mostly, I'm worrying - about friends' troubles, or the homeless, or whether Nicolas is happy. I wish that I could be like sometime insomniacs Barbara Kingsolver and Rue Kream and get out of bed each night to write a great book. Maybe tonight.

Lack of sleep has softened me. The professional production of A Christmas Carol that we saw last night (our friends in it included two acclaimed young unschooled brothers) had me in tears over Scrooge's redemption. That was unexpected. I even acted in this play, years ago in Boston and was cynically burned out on Christmas carols for years. This year, just a few notes of Johnny Mathis and I well up. And, this particular production is great. If you are local, and can get there, I believe that even those less tender would love it.

This morning, I saw a branch out of a window and was touched by the way the wind moves its leaves, that there are just a few less of the red flutters every day.
I deleted the earlier published rambling about having lost my checkbook at the theater, and my "excuses of an insomniac" for having done so, because I found said checkbook between the seats of our car. Life is bittersweet but the emphasis today has gotten sweeter. I'm going to be a presenter at the Northeast Unschooling Conference, which means I'm bringing my family for a visit home to Boston at the end of August! I hope that some of you will be there, to pump me full of tylenol pm or mundane thoughts late at night and share a wicked good time. Do Bostonians still say wicked?