A Slice of Saturday Sun

The best way to predict the future is to create it. –Peter Drucker

My angel, Assisi, and candles gather light

We’re between snow storms here in MV. Can you believe I live in a place that  accumulates three plus inches of snow? That this seems to happen frequently here? I’m not sure I believe it yet.

But guess what? Still loving it. And despite my first trip back to San Diego, despite a walk around Mission Bay just when the sun clacked itself on palm fronds, just when the water turned glassy and the pelican alighted on a buoy to preen her wings–despite that Pacific desert beauty I witnessed, I didn’t feel home. My soul didn’t jump or shout. In fact, I think it rumbled. A hungry-like sound. Growled that it needed smaller highways and a two-lane road to work that heads into a great mountain range, a sky filled with winged creatures, a landscape dotted with lakes and towering trees.

Since this place is home–as much as it can be without N–I guess I ought to make some commitments to it, to me. While these sound like, feel like, dance like New Year’s resolutions, and it is that time of year, I’m thinking of these more as Mount Vernon Resolutions. I’ve spent my first five months here trying to sleep enough and figure out how to drive in pissing rain. Now, it’s time to live here. And what–what shall I undertake?

When I look back at this first year of Washington living, I’d like to say I’ve done this:

Marry the man better than any of my dreams. This one should be easy. He asked, right? More difficult: remembering the day is about sharing our love, joy and vibrancy for life and each other, not cute table runners, monogrammed napkins or a boat-get-away lined by people holding sparklers. But damn, those sparklers are cute.


Picture by D.M. Photo


Get the DSLR camera fixed and take (another) photography course. The light up here is like nothing I’ve seen before. Just yesterday I had to fling open my classroom window and stick my head out to take in the afternoon light. Something about falling sun rays through heavy storm clouds. I took a photography course in college, but I despised my professor, so naturally, I refused to learn a thing. Which of course, was super helpful in the long run.

Pour over another revision of Wild Mustard and harden my ego for another round of soliciting agents. This blog was one attempt to get my writing brain and typing fingers in working order enough to undertake this monster again. She’s a pretty monster, though, and I owe it to us to see this thing through. This scares the absolute crap out of me.

Learn how to make a perfect espresso in my stovetop doo-dad. Maybe if I had bite-sized nibbles of whipping-topped deliciousness like these it would help.

Run a 5-9 mile trail. Without stopping. I know, I know, the range is great, but I’d be happy with any of those numbers, and I’d hate to cap my running abilities. One of the happiest times in my life was on a long, lost (literally) trail run through Mission Gorge with Heather. We must have done seven or so miles, and it set me free.

Isn’t this a beautiful pose, picture, studio? I’d be happy with legs straight, but couldn’t resist this lovely.


Eek out 3 sets of 25 perfect-form push-ups. One of my life-long goals has been to perform a 5 minute headstand. I’ve come close, but my upper body always fails me. Instead of setting the headstand as the goal, I’m going to ninja its ass and will work on something else I’ve always wanted to be able to perform: push-ups. Hopefully, I’ll kill 3 asanas with one stone: chatarunga dandasana, sirsasana and adho mukha vrksasana. Cause that’s what yoga’s all about right: kicking the poses’ ass–finally? I know my friend, Bentley, will agree with me on this one.

Mount Olympus

Make a date with the Olympics. I can only see them some days, but their jagged tops whisper my name. Is it their locale across the water, that their name spurs Atlas and Athena to mind, or their rain forest that lures me?

Figure out how to leave the house before noon. Those who have been here know what I’m talking about. So much to do, so few daylight hours.

T minus 357 days. I expect to hear from you: You: Linsey–how many push-ups you doing? Me: two.  You: Why haven’t you posted that chapter of WM like you said you would? Me: Cause I’m a lazy bum and too busy eating chocolate. You: Have you done anything on your  list yet? Me: No, but I’ve thought a lot about them.

3 thoughts on “A Slice of Saturday Sun

  1. Pingback: Drying Wings « Writing in the Rain

  2. Pingback: Taking (and Making) Stock « Writing in the Rain

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