My 'projects' are underway: the children's books (two of them) and also that 'adolescent' novel I've always wanted to write. These are doable and I think I've got a shot, not only in completing them but maybe, just maybe, in getting financed. Am I being arrogant? Not at all. This fictional success (ha!) completely hinges on being able to find a very patient editor before even submitting these silly stories of mine. I am not a "writer". My ungainly, awkward prose sometimes produces a clever turn of phrase but that is not enough. I know that. But I have ideas- good, unique ideas and, with a little help from some friends, I will have an editor and an illustrator as well.

I am feeling sad about silly things today, like how I keep postponing my next visit to the local yarn shop. See, all of the yarn is behind the counter. This is a problem for several reasons. Not only do I walk around half blind because I am too stubborn to wear my glasses but I also suffer from a strange kind of social anxiety whenever I become a 'shopper'. I am therefore nervous, shy and squinting when I go into the shop. I then get frustrated at not being able to properly browse and touch the yarn- two essential things in my opinion. And so I am presently yarn-less. If I don't smarten up soon, I won't be able to finish my shawls and skirt-wraps- a real tragedy because I'm working on some inspiring designs. The theme is Swirling, Burnout Stevie Nicks Style. I'm all a-titter just thinking about it.

But the biggest thing of all, the one thing that I can't shake loose, is this other idea that's been haunting me for more than a week now. Normally, I'd call this beautiful inspiration and follow it without hesitation, no matter the consequences. It's another writing 'project' and I don't know if I can do it. I don't know if I'm strong enough, capable enough and mostly, I don't know if I can do it right. It deserves more than I can give it, maybe. But maybe it's in me, perfect and ready and ripe, and all I have to do is let it out.