Lying on the yoga mat, I count each time my head pulls up and over until I sit up straight. The 100-per-day sit-up streak is going strong, as is my mind’s whirl with a torrid of other thoughts. In the seven-foot mirror, I glimpse my face and immediately think of the T-1000 from Terminator 2—not the Arnold Schwarzenegger model, but the liquid metal, shape-shifting one. There’s something about my ear to chin to cheek structure I can’t not see myself in him.
Also on my mind: a koi pond. Dave and I talked about the details and vision for it. His knowledge and experience with aquarium fish with my love for landscaping and plants, made this project a marriage of our skill sets and feels completely doable.
A handful of days into this exercise routine is too soon to tell, but the placebo effect is alive and well—my obliques seem at least a sixteenth of an inch tighter.
With fifteen minutes until the day’s last session, I move to the back porch to write. I sit cross-legged, laptop resting in the trough of my legs, as I soak in the evening’s warmth mixed with cool. The outdoor lights, the orchestra of bugs, Evelyn’s and Dave’s voices as they return from putting the chickens in for the night—it’s all so good.
Ooh, a good interruption! Dave asks if I’m working from the patio. Why haven’t I thought of that before? Without a doubt, yes!
I often write a sentence only to delete it. I start down a thought thread only to hit a dead end, my writing chops vanishing. I can’t decide if it’s because I don’t know how to translate the feeling onto the page or if my bar for writing is too high and nothing I type lives up to it.
Like earlier, before my session, I tried to capture the patio atmosphere—the glowing string lights, and the way the low light made everything prettier. But just writing the sentence didn’t feel like enough. I wanted you to feel like you were there too; to feel the night’s warmth, the pause of the moment, the light and lovely feeling in my heart. A deep gratitude—for the lights, for the upcoming session, for the ability to work outside in my pajamas.
Oh yeah, pajamas! These babies? I bought them before moving to Georgia. The second I touched their super-soft fabric, I got that oh heck yes bullseye tingle, knowing they’d be my comfiest nighttime companion. Fittingly perfect for the Peach State, they’re covered in orangey-pink, butt-like peaches with green leaves, stems, and tiny white flowers against a deep blue background. And with the collar, I suppose they could even pass as a shirt.
All this talk about cozy, and I’m ready to take one step closer to bedtime and sign off. I hope your day was wonderful. Mine definitely was.
Love,
Jaclynn
PS This post’s picture is taken from the kitchen facing our back porch. It is also a picture of the toast I burnt this morning and forgot about.
Going On 40 