A Note To Myself

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I find it surprising sundown is one word.

I eat white peaches for breakfast, ripe almost past the point, cut with a paring knife in a crystal bowl.

I am aware this kind of time is running out.

I promise myself I will put a book into the world before a baby.

I never learned to play the guitar.

People tell me repeatedly, how I have no idea what I am in for.

I wonder what would be the fun in change if I knew exactly how it would change me.

They tell me how I won’t travel, won’t sleep, won’t write.

It makes me wonder if anyone really knows me at all beside him.

I think other people want me to be as worn thin as they are. I think it’s a human condition, a malady of sorts, to want someone else in the dredges with you.

I have to look up the word dredges and it isn’t quite right, but it is perfect.

Dredging is the excavation process of cleaning out a watery area of its mud and weed and debris for the sake of reshaping the land or improving the water conditions.

I am comfortable with everything I do not know and perhaps that startles people, perhaps it’s their nature to say to me, you cannot, you will not at least for a few years. What a strange thing to assume for someone else.

But the truth is, peaches are only in season for a little while and the huckleberries near the back porch wont fruit until after we are gone for the summer.

We make a life out of small choices and string them together like seashells and hang them in the window, even here.

What I wonder about now is whether of not he will have my eyes and sensibility about being alive.

I have not said the word motherhood out loud yet.

I said once before and it is still true, that I am not sure anyone enjoys being themselves as much as I do. I hope he feels the same.