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Shades of Blue, #SongLyricSunday

I was at a spa recently and found myself standing in front of a wall full of nail polishes and was asked to pick which one I would like.

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How do I do this, when I can no longer see the colours and shades, or even scarcely recall what they looked like?

This week,
for Song Lyric Sunday,
Helen went with a band which brought back some memories.

So Cold
is not my entry for the week. I just came across it when listening to Helen’s choice and I did feel the singer’s intensity. I suppose it is helpful for getting out feelings of aggression or frustration with life, like the things none of us can control, like losing sight or loss of a loved one or any number of things.

Not wanting to follow too closely to Helen though, here is my official song choice:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WX2TXMJXS4o

I have had a deep connection to this band for years, getting me through multiple hospital stays, over and under the trials and beauty of loves…ah!

Then, a friend of mine since we were ten years old applied to medical school in Ireland and my dream of visiting became a reality.

This friend, she stood with me at that wall of colours I could no longer see and she went with her favourite purple and, though my first instinct was my favourite red, I ended up choosing navy blue.

***

“So Cold In Ireland”

Here is a story
of hope and of glory.
He’s eighteen years old
and well I fell in love.
But after that,
where have you gone, from me?
The one that I loved endlessly.
We used to have a life,
but now it’s all gone.
Mystify…
Does it have to be so cold in Ireland?
Does it have to be so cold in Ireland, for me?
Are they ready for me?
Where have you gone, from me?
The one that I loved endlessly.
We were to have a child.
Yesterday’s gone.
Well I knew the time would come.
When I’d have to leave.
Go on.
Look what they’ve done to me.
They’ve taken my hand…
And it’s killing me.
Killing me, killing me, killing me!
Does it have to be so cold in Ireland?
Does it have to be so cold in Ireland, for me?
Are they ready for me?
But I’m afraid I’m returning to Ireland.
I’m afraid I’m returning to Ireland.
I see, that there is nothing for me.
There is nothing for me.

LYRICS

***

My friend was visiting family and friends like me, back here in Canada, but maybe…it may be that this is no longer her home anymore.

Now the holidays are over once more and she has officially returned to Ireland, to her life. Her daughter is Irish and I love that. It is her home, possibly their home, forever. I will miss them. I miss Ireland.

This time of year I don’t get depression as such. I just feel the time of year and blue felt right, but even blue nails don’t last.

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And Yet… #SongLyricSunday

I often wonder at how we need other people.

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Around this time of year especially, but isn’t that what all the best love songs are all about?

Song Lyric Sunday

I don’t have much more to say on the subject this week.

Going to let the words to one of my favourite songs of the moment speak for themselves instead.

***

“We Don’t Talk Anymore” (feat. Selena Gomez)

[Charlie Puth:]
We don’t talk anymore
We don’t talk anymore
We don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do
We don’t love anymore
What was all of it for?
Oh, we don’t talk anymore, like we used to do…
I just heard you found the one, you’ve been looking
You’ve been looking for
I wish I would have known that wasn’t me
Cause even after all this time
I still wonder
Why I can’t move on
Just the way you did so easily
Don’t wanna know
Kind of dress you’re wearing tonight
If he’s holdin’ onto you so tight
The way I did before
I overdosed
Should’ve known your love was a game
Now I can’t get you out of my brain
Oh, it’s such a shame
That we don’t talk anymore
We don’t talk anymore
We don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do
We don’t love anymore
What was all of it for?
Oh, we don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do
[Selena Gomez:]
I just hope you’re lying next to somebody
Who knows how to love you like me
There must be a good reason that you’re gone
Every now and then I think you might want me to
Come show up at your door
But I’m just too afraid that I’ll be wrong
Don’t wanna know
If you’re looking into her eyes
If she’s holdin’ onto you so tight the way I did before
I overdosed
Should’ve known your love was a game
Now I can’t get you out of my brain
Oh, it’s such a shame
[Charlie Puth & Selena Gomez:]
That we don’t talk anymore
(we don’t we don’t)
We don’t talk anymore
(we don’t we don’t)
We don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do
We don’t love anymore
(we don’t we don’t)
What was all of it for?
(we don’t we don’t)
Oh, we don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do
Like we used to do
Don’t wanna know
Kind of dress you’re wearing tonight
If he’s giving it to you just right
The way I did before
I overdosed
Should’ve known your love was a game
Now I can’t get you out of my brain
Oh, it’s such a shame
That we don’t talk anymore
We don’t talk anymore
(we don’t we don’t)
We don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do
We don’t love anymore
(we don’t we don’t)
What was all of it for?
(we don’t we don’t)
Oh, we don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do
(we don’t talk anymore)
Don’t wanna know
Kind of dress you’re wearing tonight (oh)
If he’s holding onto you so tight (oh)
The way I did before
(we don’t talk anymore)
I overdosed
Should’ve known your love was a game (oh)
Now I can’t get you out of my brain (whoa)
Oh, it’s such a shame
That we don’t talk anymore

Lyrics.

***
Or maybe that’s just the world of pop music.

I don’t know. This song is popular right now and it was playing on the radio as I was taking a great step forward in my own life and planning on going it alone. That is big for me. I just wanted to remember it.

I will always need people, but I also need to learn to depend on myself too.

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International Day For Persons with Disabilities 2016, #IDPD2016

Helen Keller…Stevie Wonder…Ray Charles…Rick Hansen…Stephen Hawking…

The Rick Hansen Foundation

There are so many more of us out here, only looking to have rich, full lives like anyone else, but what often stops us is not only society’s barriers, but our own.

***

Since 1992, the United Nations International Day of Persons with Disabilities (IDPD) has been celebrated annually on 3 December around the world. The theme for this year’s International Day is “Achieving 17 Goals for the Future We Want” . This theme notes the recent adoption of the 17 Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) and the role of these goals in building a more inclusive and equitable world for persons with disabilities.

***

One note on the society part – some of you may not want to think a lot about it, if you don’t have to, because then it becomes clear that the possibility for anyone to become disabled is indeed a possibility for anyone..

I am a Canadian woman, living with a disability. I didn’t acquire my disability through an accident later in life. I did not develop it overtime, but from birth and still, who knows which direction my remaining vision might take.

On the day before the
United Nation’s International Day For PErsons with Disabilities
I felt a tired feeling that I sometimes get. I panic and assume my sight is worsening, but I am not sure, if that makes any real sense. I close my eyes and decide I will try to get back in to see my retinal specialist soon.

I don’t know what, if anything, he will be able to tell me, offer me as hope that I won’t be completely blind one day. He will probably see no changes or signs of the mysterious eye disease that took my left eye twenty years ago. He will speak to me of gene therapies in various stages of development, but I don’t know what hope lies in that for me. Maybe it will be my future. Maybe not. I’ve learned not to bank on anything.

That’s a part of my DNA, just like the genetic eye disease. I am conditioned to either think the worst or simply not want to hope for the things I may really really want, always fearing that the disappointment from possibly not getting them will break me. It hasn’t broken me yet, which does give me reason to be optimistic though.

I wanted to be able to see the truly unique show violinist Lindsey Stirling put on recently. Instead, I listened to all I could and relied on my helpful sister to fill in the blanks. I wanted to throw my white cane away and yelled my displeasure, and through the wish, but instead I sat and listened even harder.

I want to draw like I used to when I saw colours and when everything in my world was more clearly and brightly defined. I can’t. I want to scream in frustration but I’m resigned instead.

I want to take up the latest craze of adult colouring books, but I don’t.

Of course, nothing is really stopping me. I may not, as an adult, see the lines I may have hardly seen as a child, which are now nearly invisible to me. I could still get myself a Harry Potter or any number of other themed colouring books with a theme which fits my interest, and be damned if I miss colouring in the lines by a mile.

But I don’t. I don’t scream or rail at the world in an uproar. I find other ways to spend my time.

I want to travel and to go through life with an independent spirit and loads of self confidence, but I don’t. I try and I work at it, but I’m scared.

I find a travel series, a BBC documentary, available to me on Netflix. It’s Stephen Fry, whom I love, and he is doing a road trip across the United States in his British cab. I know him from his narration of the Harry Potter books and for his intelligent and witty character. After watching him visit all 50 states I now know he hates being on a horse, dancing, and skiing. He loves science and culture and literature.

Stephen Fry In America

I watch him on his trip and I long to go on one of my own, but I fear getting lost in the big, expansive world and I worry that my white cane will attract only pity. I want to grip it with extra determination and go anyway. It’s all in my attitude, right?

I can’t drive a cab across the country. I want to believe I will see more of the world anyway, even without definition of sight.

I don’t try to revisit childhood experiences of mine by colouring. Instead, I watch a travel show which I’ve heard of but only now decided to give a chance.

HELLO GOODBYE, #HelloGoodbye

The host speaks to one woman in her sixties, widowed after her late husband’s long battle with illness, but who has now found new love with a man from England. Her happiness is infectious. Her newly found love walks down the ramp in the arrivals terminal at Toronto Pearson International Airport and gets down on one knee. Love is lost and can be found again.

I feel warm just by watching and listening to her story.

The host also speaks to a young man and his parents. The son is on his way to participate in Rio, at the Paralympics. He was paralyzed from a diving accident and now plays wheelchair rugby.

And then there was the grandmother, daughter, and grandson saying their goodbyes. The young guy and his mother are heading back to Britain after a visit with Grandma. The mother has RP (Retinitis Pigmentosa). She carries a cane, but the son speaks of wanting his mother to have companionship with a guide dog, as he will soon be going out on his own and doesn’t want her to be alone. He has worried about her safety all his life. She admits to being unsure about going for a guide dog once they get back home, but her son’s words cause her to rethink things.

She grips her white cane. I grip mine. She has been losing sight for years. I’ve been blind since birth and losing since. Am I any further along in accepting my circumstances and my white cane than she is?

People ask me all the time if I am ever going to get another guide dog. I don’t quite know what to say. Yes, they may provide the necessary confidence boost for many. I consider it.

I don’t think any dog will ever compare to my Croche, But is that all it is?

I can’t put another animal through what I put Croche through. She was so well trained and so fittingly suited in temperament. She was given to me and I was trusted with her. A lot went into all that. We were a team, but I failed her.

My ever growing illnesses caused me to sleep and her to dutifully stay by my side, but she was prevented from shining. She was my pal, but I don’t take the responsibility of a working dog lightly. I don’t know what my future will bring and I can’t bring myself to bringing another animal into that.

I want to curse what stops me, but what often stops me is me. And so I would just end up cursing myself, again and again.

Or, I could take hold of my white cane and use it for betterment, for working for some of my dreams, and for hardening my resolve and building my often feeble confidence.

My feelings of shame when I walk with my cane are hard to describe and hard to fight off. I will never be happy if I don’t try. Fear and disappointment stop me from even trying. What a waste that would be.

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Driveways and Sideroads, #SoCs

“Shhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!”

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“I’m trying to sleep,” is what my cat Lumos is probably saying, as he curls up in the place between my legs and the couch, but I type furiously for a little bit of stream of consciousness writing anyway, as he cuddles up to me and keeps my feet warm.

Now, I don’t usually write from any cat’s POV, not even his, but I was thinking up ways to start this post with an “sh” as the prompt stated, and that was all that came to me on this early Saturday morning in December.

I thought I’d begin with a little humour, as the rest of this post is of a more serious nature.

I did want to speak about a few
shows
I’ve seen this week, here.

It was both an odd contrast and, at the same time, alinement between a Canadian news program about one young husband and father who would walk down his driveway, attempting to sell his truck, and would never come home.

And then the American news program 20/20 and the young wife and mother who went out for a jog and was missing, abducted, but then finally released on Thanksgiving.

“It was just a truck!” That was the quote from the first program, from the widow left behind by tragedy, all a horrible, nasty, disgusting crime of a thing.

The Cali woman who would survive, has made it back to her loved ones, is now hopefully free to live the rest of her days with her two children and her husband, who never gave up and fought so hard to find her.

The Ontario woman will never get that sort of a happy ending with her love.

I was ill to watch the first program, to hear even more of the gruesome details, of which I managed to miss back in 2013 when the crime came to all our attentions, happening less than an hour away from me. She has her faith and family and little girl to bring her joy again, but a part of her will forever be missing.

Who knows what happened while that California woman was gone, as she is only now starting to help the police piece things together. Her trauma at this time likely intense.

One has, seemingly had a happy conclusion, though the case is still ongoing. Hopefully, whoever these women are, the ones who lured the victim into their vehicle, hopefully they don’t hurt anyone else.

The two men charged and now spending life in prison are paying for their deeds, one charged with two other murders before the truck owning husband and father was senselessly taken. Entitled. Rich and spoiled. Thinking themselves invincible. Murder never should have been the result.

The similarities and differences, matching an fitting in an odd way as the two programs followed each other, it all felt strange to take in.

I was just struck by the contrasting outcomes to these two evening news programs, as the holiday season approaches and so much good is highlighted. The presence of evil in this world hit me with an extra, additional, forcible blow because we all look to stories of good will around this time of year, but there are those bad ones still going on, somewhere.

Not all is well, though both stories felt like they were read as transcripts, more like Hollywood movie scripts, but are true crime, real life in motion.

I put myself and my family in their places. Then, I immediately wanted to push that thought out of my mind.

Sometimes the world feels like such a scary place and I am afraid to leave my house at the thought of it. What are the chances, really, right?

The young Ontario woman who is now raising her daughter as a single mother said, “If it could happen to us, it could happen anywhere.”

You could meet danger or genuine decency in your own driveway or on a deserted side road. You could meet it, no matter where you might be, all depending on the sort of outstanding or rotten humans who come across your path.

I watch these shows, as the Ontario case touched me deeply and this Thanksgiving miracle was a happy story, still in progress.

I also know I can’t be afraid.

These shows weren’t fiction , not this time. They happened. It looks like I’ll get to spend another holiday with my family, whereas some people will not. I don’t take that lightly. I also don’t want to feel paralyzed with fear to go out into the world, to live my life, and I hope I never have to hear stories like these again, but I know, realistically, it can’t be completely avoided.

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Quintessential, #SongLyricSunday #10Thankful

Question: How do I let someone know how thankful and grateful I am for their presence in my life?

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Answer: I feature them on my blog, which I try to do (a little shoutout) whenever I possibly can.

Or I let a particular song speak volumes for the gratitude I feel.

Or both.

Every weekend, or as many of them as I can, I like to write down my list of ten things I’m thankful for that week or just in general,
which all stemmed from this here blog hop.

So this week’s
Song Lyric Sunday
is an easy one really. Thankful didn’t have to be in the name of the song, but as there are likely several, one popped into my head. I think it is uncommon enough that I should be the only one who has chosen this one:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zq1xkrma76Y

I am thankful for music, songs, and song lyrics.

***

i remember what you said that day
be careful what you wish for baby cos’ it’s a crazy world outside but you’ve always got a place to hide
chorus:
you’ve shown me things that i’d never seen
gave me something that i can believe
all the love you give, it’s a healing thing and i thank you
for the common ground that you shared with me
for the higher ground, the way you lifted me
now i come to you and you comfort me and i thank you i, i, i, thank you i, i, i, i, thank you i, i, i, thank you i, i, i, i, thank you
there are chances that i had to take and mistakes that i just had to make
california dreams don’t all come true
but i could always count on you
[chorus] i remember what you said that day you’ve always known just what to say
i was blind, but now i see
thank you for forgiving me
ohhhhhh, yeah… [chorus] i, i, i thank you… thank you (fade out)

LYRICS

***

I am thankful for the chance, every so often, to combine blog hops.

I am thankful for everyone who I’ve met through the TToT and who show up on a weekly basis to share what they are thankful for in their own lives.

I am thankful for a tip-off of a radio interview of one of my favourite musical performers/artists.

I am thankful for the chance to see one of my nephew’s swimming lessons. Being back at that pool brings back a load of memories, both good and not so good ones, but I am thankful for the smell of the pool and the sounds of children loving the water and the time with family.

I am thankful for sounds that are so very special, like the sound of my unborn niece/nephew’s heartbeat. (I’m going with niece.)

🙂

Sound is one of my most valuable remaining senses, what another of my favourite weekly blog hops was all about this week.

Finish The Sentence Friday

I am thankful for pizza and birthday cake with family, for the chance to be an aunt to such wonderfully imaginative kids, and so sweet and fun too. They make me smile and laugh and believe in magic.

I am thankful for all the loved ones I’m blessed to have, those I’ve met in recent months, like my writing mentor and my violin teacher. I am lucky to have all of you in my corner.

The quintessential feeling of gratitude. I am grateful for my ability to recognize it.

THANK YOU!!!

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Violin On Fire, #RIPLeonardCohen #SongLyricSunday

Why am I writing twice in only a few days about Leonard Cohen, a star Canada is proud to say was born here, who’s music has left such an impression on so many people’s lives, when I’ve never written about him before now?

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I guess I didn’t realize how beloved he was. I readily admit I was never his biggest fan. It could be a bit of a generational thing, but really, it just never took hold, his music in my mind or heart I mean. Now, I just found his death, two days after the shock to so many with the news out of the US, that his dying and the spreading of his soulful lyrics has been a great condolence and consoling of so many. As a true fan of anyone who can create such brilliant lyrics, I think it well worth all this focus on what really matters in life, so much of which Cohen wrote about for so long.

I just must share a few of his songs, but I am choosing not to share his versions. I still offer up my greatest respect to the man, the Canadian legend he will always be.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8AWFf7EAc4

I first heard this one on one of my favourite television teen dramas at the time, The OC. I thought it was one of the saddest songs I’d ever heard, though at the time to be fair, it was being played over the scene where Marissa and Ryan were dancing for the last time. That may have played a part for me at the time.

🙂

Now it just feels prudent.

😦

Covers are fascinating replicas of the originals. To be honest, some covers are better than the covered, but is that an insult to the artist who first created the song being re-imagined? I wouldn’t know. I have no song that another has been eager to redo but I am left wondering what it must feel like.

***

Now I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
You say I took the name in vain
I don’t even know the name
But if I did, well really, what’s it to you?
There’s a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn’t matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Lyrics

***

But then there’s the song my brother showed me after the news broke. This cover was contrasted with the original then. I include it here, but it was some of the lyrics that I was drawn to.

Any way you slice it, with whomever sings this one, it is the most mournful thing to fit the ending of such a week as this.

***

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin Dance me through the panic ’til I’m gathered safely in Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon Show me slowly what I only know the limits of Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long We’re both of us beneath our love, we’re both of us above Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the children who are asking to be born Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin Dance me through the panic till I’m gathered safely in Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love

Lyrics

***

The image of a burning violin is an interesting one to me, as mine is currently my obsession, one which I can’t get out of my head.

I need music badly, more than ever on this particular
Song Lyric Sunday.

That is why this is a two for one offering this time.

RIP Mr. Cohen. (1934-2016)

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NaNo NaNo NaNo, #NaNoWriMo #SoCS

I want to write a novel and
this
is a small bit of what it will be about.

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Three years ago, this very month of November it was, I took a stab at writing my first
novel.

I took part in
National Novel Writing Month
because on their site it said: “The world needs your novel.”

Really? Mine? Hmm.

I had an idea for a novel in my brain for several years. It was a family story about how three generations of a family deal with losing someone they love.

I wrote fifty thousand words in thirty days. The website that year wasn’t all that accessible and so I did not get much farther off from registering. I did not keep track of my word count like everyone else online. I did it on Twitter instead. It didn’t matter that the website for the organization was a bit of a nightmare. All that really truly counted would be the words I would write.

No flashy completion badges for me once I crossed the finish line. I knew in my heart that I’d done it and that was all that mattered.

Three years later and I haven’t done it again, but I did buy the t-shirt.

I did not take a month or two, Christmas off, before returning to my first attempt at a novel like is suggested. I did what they said. I wrote to get to fifty thousand. I would edit later.

Or would I?

I have the words somewhere, I hope. I don’t keep track of all my documents on all the laptop switches since 2014, oops. I emailed a copy to myself, but that may be gone.

Was this one more in a long line of mistakes, failures, and regrets from my writing journey thus far?

I sent it to a friend, even as rough as it was, whom I trusted to give it her honest opinion. Maybe she has a copy still. I wouldn’t count on that.

I was not a planner, as is the case many times in the rest of life. I was a pantser. I didn’t have a plan. I just started to write from my themes of family, loss, grief, and resilience.

I can’t let that idea go, but a novel is such an enormous task to take on.

I would have loved to participate again this year. I have faith that the website has improved for visually impaired and blind users. I now know someone locally, one who is from my local writing group and is in charge of support for writers doing NaNo in our immediate area. My writing group is talking mostly all about NaNo all month.

I would have abandoned my first novel, still in progress somewhere, to try writing this newer idea which has shaped and formed in my mind in the three years since that first attempt.

This one is historical fiction, unlike that first one which took place in a more contemporary setting.

This one will be mostly fiction, but loosely based on family. It takes place in Europe during World War II. It’s about a woman who is a mother of three small children throughout the war. There is struggle and bravery all around her. Her decisions aren’t easy ones.

We who study history know all about the Holocaust, about big events such as D Day, which are both important, but what was life like for other people who were going about their business and living their lives when war broke out?

***Just practicing with early versions of my elevator pitch.

I would have taken a crack at this, but apparently I can’t handle a project of this size and my continual violin lessons at the same time. I haven’t got the brain power to muster for both.

Maybe next year, once I’ve been playing violin for more than a year. Maybe.

So much going on. World events are wild, whether it’s war in the twentieth century or world upheaval in the twenty-first.

My brain is full near to capacity at the moment.

When a story sticks in the head like this one and the one before have, I don’t think I will be getting them out of there anytime soon.

NaNo, NaNo, NaNo sounds like a taunt to me, that I couldn’t hack both writing and music lessons, but this isn’t your ordinary, everyday writing. This week is a tense one, and who knows where we’ll all be next week this time. Hopefully all those brave enough to take on writing fifty thousand words this month will still be writing. I do think it makes for an excellent distraction.

Now I stop writing and it’s time to practice my violin. I just like to do an update on where I am, with every passing year, as November and NaNo again rolls around.

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