I guess it's apparent that there's been some sort of ill-willed blockage in the creative side of my brain these past few days! I get that way when Gary goes out of town. Mopey. Dopey. Lots of glaring and intense feeling.

I have spark but I'm not one of these flowing women who will spin in a long skirt. I used to be the one in the corner with a cigarette and a glass of hard liquor and an annoying-looking composition notebook, now that I consume neither I'm the mother with an edge at the park - still with the annoying looking composition notebook and the wound of a red mouth. I love my kid fiercely. Some of us mothers are doves and some of us are hawks. And I'm not talking about my political leanings. I am a liberal pacifist, but I will swoop down and consume you.