December 1st is my birthday

How's that for a very subtle ploy to get attention?

I'm posting tonight because I won't have time tomorrow, classes all day and kids' stuff after that. I promised the boys we would bake a cake.

This will be the second hard birthday I've had in a row, for reasons too numerous to discuss. But I will say that none of them even have to do with how old I am. I've shelved that issue and will, perhaps, get to it some other year.

Know what I want for my birthday?

Rainbows and unicorns and lines in the sand that spell out a message that will make me smile until my next birthday.

Child logic:

Learn new rule, apply new rule everywhere.

Before I get started, I must tell you, I saw another rainbow yesterday. An early birthday gift.

So. We were at Laurent's café this weekend. Boy2 burped. A big, fat, loud burp. He did not close his mouth. He did not cover his mouth. He's five, I know, but still.

He was immediately told to keep his mouth closed during such activities and to put his hand in front of it.

He said, "Oh, just like when I cough."

Exactly. Just like when you cough.

He jumped to his feet. With the appropriate gestures to illustrate his point, he then said, "Then I guess I should put my hand behind my butt when I poot."

What do you say to that?

With my week, I will

1. remember that lost is not forgotten.

2. pester everyone about my birthday next Monday. Because, as much as my age might freak me out, I just love birthdays. Mine and boys' especially.

3. get organized. No, really.

4. remember the rainbow I saw on Friday afternoon whenever I get sad this week. It was really beautiful and whisper faint and so briefly there I was probably the only person who saw it.

What will you do?

We had chocolate fondue for dessert

So all must be right with the world. Tart clementine sections and crisp apples slices dipped in smooth, warm chocolate can only signal harmony. And yet.

I didn't really have dinner first, just a glass of wine with cheese and dried sausage slices and thyme-parmesan crackers (yes, homemade) while skyping with Meg, one of my beloved shadow sisters and a dear, sweet, beautiful friend. She's one of the many, many reasons I miss Seattle so much. (Lorraine. Audrey. Tanya. The mist. The views. The lakes. The coffee. The restaurants. The I'm home feeling.)

The boys did, have dinner, I mean - chicken and rice soup (yes, of course, also homemade).

Back to harmony.

This past week has been so difficult and so easy, so breath catchingly hard and so flowy smooth all at once that my only hope of survival was chocolate fondue.

For those of you out there who think I'm just freaking out about my approaching birthday (two weeks from today), think again.

And no, to those same people, it's not going to get a whole lot worse between now and then.

I'll eat chocolate fondue every night if I have to.

Another Paris weekend

Do I sound blasée? Because I'm totally not. I'm thrilled. I haven't left Laval since my last weekend in Paris which must have been in March. So it's well past time.

I will take the fast train and walk along busy streets. I will drink coffee and wine and maybe champagne. I might eat, depending on my mood. And I will see if St. Anthony doesn't think maybe a few of my lost things can be found this weekend away. That would be nice.

What will your weekend be made of?

What I believe

I believe most of the rainbows I see are signs.

I believe St. Anthony helps me find things.

I believe my 2008 will make beautiful sense to me one day.

I believe I must be where I'm supposed to be because here I am.

I believe the man who was supposed to win the election won the election.

What do you believe?

Republicans I love, I don't want to hear it.

Spoken but left unsaid

There are some truths that are more easily heard from a shadow sister in a dream. Or from a stranger over a glass of champagne in front of the fire at a chateau. Or from a ladybug meandering on the organza that covers the night table in the bedroom at the chateau.

Truths we want to believe, long to believe, even manage briefly to believe when we stop dragging around the past or reaching for the future.

Truths made of soft steel that warm you even as you feel their cold.

Truths, once heard, that change everything, forever. For good.

What's true for you?