I’ve never wrestled, but I know that right before someone shoots in, grabs, and slams their opponent to the ground, there’s a moment of calculation—waiting for the exact right opening. Writing feels like that. A game of two people walking directly at each other, shifting left, then right, an awkward laugh thrown in to ease the misstep. At the beginning of a post, I get stuck in that same rocking horse purgatory, the spark sputtering out before it catches. The screen is blank. The words should come, but the pantry is empty. Even though I know—really know—this brain of mine has a Costco-sized warehouse of memories and observations to unload.
Turns out, it costs anywhere from $75 to $150 for an unsupervised minor to fly alone. At first, that seemed steep, but when you break it down, paying $12 to $25 an hour to ensure a five-year-old (which is the minimum age requirement) makes it through security and a five-hour flight from Atlanta to Seattle in one piece feels pretty reasonable. The idea is nowhere near the taking-action stage, but my parents are open to a summer visit, and Evelyn is too. Stay tuned.
Pardon me (not like you even knew), but I just paused to read—and then save—a sourdough starter fry bread recipe. Which, in itself, is not a problem. The real problem? Finding it later. My storage system is a free-for-all of texts, emails to myself, browser bookmarks, and various social media folders. I may as well write recipes on scraps of paper and throw them out the car window. The organizer in me has officially thrown her hands up and taken a smoke break.
For several days, I abandoned my fasting routine in favor of a full-blown feeding frenzy—especially when faced with a truly Southern spread, complete with collard green soup (delicious!) and fried pork chops. It’s wild how quickly discipline slipped away, fading into a distant memory. Hate to break it to myself, but a rude awakening is coming tomorrow when the strict rules return. Too bad there’s no ice cream left to soften the blow tonight.
It’s noticeably quieter with Grandpa and Grandma’s absence. I’ll miss making fancy breakfasts, trying new restaurants, and just having them around. It was really nice—working in the yard, clothes shopping, waking up and going to bed with them here. A Christmas trip to Washington state is definitely in the works, but if something happens before then, that would sure be nice.
Alright, time to stop neglecting flossing and actually get ready for bed. I’ll see you here tomorrow.
Love,
Jaclynn
Going On 40 