I smelled burning toast from the other room. I ran to the stove, flipped his sandwich, and then scraped the black edge with a knife. He wouldn’t eat burnt food. I flipped it again and cut it into triangles and set them on a plate with a bowl of chicken soup. He got up from the couch and ate lunch on the floor. His eyes were lined with plum colored circles. “But, I feel better,” he repeated when I suggested he try to sleep the cold off. After a story, he climbed in bed and said goodnight. Opera puts him to sleep every time.
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.