Surrender

Herr Becher never ceases to amaze me. He's midway through the second book of the 'Twilight' saga, and has just informed me (not entirely grudgingly, I might add) that he's willing to see the movie with me this weekend, if, in fact, it's still playing somewhere. I'm pretty sure I can locate a venue, even if it's been dumped to the dollar cinema. I have a date. With the Edward and the Herr. See, it's been a bewildering week all around.

Upping the weird quotient has been all the activity at the shop. New customers continue to appear out of the woodwork and sales for the week are up enough to keep the gnawing fear and doubt at bay for the moment. Westminster might even get a sizable chunk of the monies owed them this month. In retail, relief is spelled 'dollars', and such a relief would have been unimaginable just a few weeks ago. Crafty, creative women are capturing my heart and the words of encouragement I've been getting these days are a balm to my soul. The past eighteen months of struggle seem like they're starting to pay off, and it's like finally breaking through deep water to catch a first, fiery breath of air, just as you'd started to surrender to the overwhelming pull of a downward current. The strength to keep going, keep working, keep trying... I've been getting doses of that strength all week, and it's making me ... giddy.

Tomorrow is the start of a new year. I've always hated the idea of New Year's resolutions, because they always seemed to focus on the negative, always a list of past failures and what I should do about fixing myself. Not this year. This new year is to be the year of living dangerously. Not in a 'hey, watch me be stupid' sort of way, but a year in which I stop shying away from challenges. Making time for fun. Exploring the world. Getting my children interested in more learning and making things with their hands. Spending more time dreaming and acting on those dreams. Replacing old concerns with new perspectives, and working towards the positive things I want for my family, my friends, and my alter-ego. Clementine went into hiding right after the shop opened, once she was satisfied she'd done enough damage to my fragile mental health and our home equity. This year, I'm not going to shove her into a corner ("nobody puts Baby in the corner" ... *snark*); this year, we both get free reign to chase our desires. Hello, New Year. You might want to duck. C