Right now, Tuesday mornings are a little delight for me. Everyone leaves earlier than usual and I don’t do a school drop, so I have been intentional about these mornings. I make sure everything is straightened, light my santal candle, and I start the morning in the sunroom. There’s only one sunny cushion on the couch at 7:30am, this time of year. I have committed myself to non-fiction readings in the morning, usually something information and something more spiritual or theological. I usually move from reading and journaling to some yoga in the sun. I am not in a phase of life where there is time to make these daily practices, but I’m grateful for the space to begin Tuesdays this way. There is a marked difference in how I feel, about myself, in my body, looking out over the rest of the day.

It was an eventful morning after that. I had one more interview for Serenity Magazine, exchanged some messages with friends, and then sat down to work when Thomas curled up at my feet…covered in poop. I cannot fathom what possesses a dog to do this nor can I make a pattern of the times he chooses to do so, but my morning was in upheaval having to immediately bathe the dog. Admittedly, he needed it, and I’d almost convinced myself that this foul little act was his attempt at asking my to clean him, until he chose to roll in dirt again the second he was clean. So, Thomas spent the better part of our morning leashed on the deck, drying in the sun.

I was talking to him about his life decisions and hanging laundry when a voice called out to me from the front door, and I was compelled to admit to the door-to-door sales man that I was talking to my dog (which I guess is better than talking to myself). We don’t get many in-person sales calls up here, and I really wanted to respect his process, but eventually I had to firmly tell him, no thank you on the windows AND the siding AND the doors. He left me his information, so if you do need windows or siding or the like, call Lifetime and give Ryan Deen’s name. He was nice though very disappointed to be sent away.

Things finally quieted down around here and I finished up my magazine work, sent off a few emails, and found my calendar deliciously open for whatever creative work I wanted to tend to. I am trying to be flexible with myself because I honestly have no choice but to be flexible with my schedule. Opportunities to make art will present themselves, and I just have to be ready to accept those opportunities rather than trying to force the issue (which is to say, this concludes catching up on five days worth of these diary entries, on which I’d fallen very behind).