It worked. He fell asleep in the car coming home from the doctor’s office then store. I cranked up the heat and classical music, popped open a yogurt, and wrote. Brittle leaves soared wildly in the wind. Sun slipped by. I remembered a diner scene I wanted to write: wood paneling, white Formica tables, black coffee in white cups, berry pies on the counter, the logger who walked through the door at 11 am. My phone rang. We made evening plans then I asked him what he looked for in a wallet. The simpler the better, he said. Hmm, good to know. That after eleven years.
I’m giving this yearlong project a spin. Undoubtedly, I will fall and pick up again. Knowing this makes it easier. Still, I plan to show up to record a short photo and story of my day. You’re welcome to join me. I’d love it really. We can give each other high fives and geek out with a hashtag (#ayearofus), not because everyone is doing it, but because we’re doing it, together. Showing up every damn day to make this creative habit real.