sword & shield

I started this post yesterday but finally gave up when I couldn’t think of anything to write. They say menopause officially begins when you haven’t had a period for 12 consecutive months so technically, I’ve reached “the end.” But I don’t think menstruation means much, really, when I’ve also had a decade of perimenopausal symptoms that show no sign of ending anytime soon. I switched back to the patch and maybe that’s got something to do with my rollercoaster moods this month. There have been a lot of challenges—could be because Mercury was retrograde. Whatever the reason, I’m muddling through. Today I got a slow start but finally put on that cute pantsuit I bought while in Liverpool and took myself over to the public library. I got a card and found a sunny table to sit at. I’ve been spending too much time in my apartment, canceling plans in order to stay in and write. But after a productive, optimistic day on Friday, I had a terrible day yesterday. Confronted a father at a cafe who left his kids in a hot car across the street. The windows were down, which is why I heard the little girl calling for her parents. Saw a couple at the cafe, approached them with a bit of attitude, only to have the single White male seated next to them say, “They’re with me.” But they weren’t with him and his back was to the street and he parked in the sun instead of the shade because then he’d no doubt have to listen to his kids’ cries. Everything went downhill from there…I stuck to my routine but was just cranky and frustrated every time a new request landed in my inbox. Wound up at the corner store where I bought a bunch of junk food. This morning I finally took a migraine pill after a restless night and now I’m starting over. Deep breaths!

I finally paid my taxes after fussing with *3* tax “professionals” who insisted I owed twice that amount. I got my eyes tested and ordered contacts online to avoid paying twice the price at the eye doctor’s. KDP pulled the English cover edition of Daughters of the Crow but left the French version alone. I ordered 50 copies just in case they pull that one, too, so I’ll have books to sell at our event on August 5. My illustrator in France turned in four more sketches; we probably won’t have the book done by the time I return to France in September, but I’m not going to stress over that. I’ve made good progress on the Ireland novel and hope to get it sent out to a small group of editors this week. There have been trials and there have been victories. I don’t know why it feels like there are endless battles to fight. Maybe it’s menopause; maybe it’s a lifetime of having to fight for almost everything. I’m capable, I know that, but somehow I still feel weary. Watched a documentary on poverty in Britain this morning, which was sobering, then listened to an article in The Atlantic that claims the UK is on par with Mississippi when it comes to poverty. That doesn’t seem possible but I often think of the little boy who died in his own home because his father had a heart attack and NO ONE came to check on him. France is on fire. Canada is, too, but somehow the air quality in Montreal hasn’t been affected. Is that a sign? Why would I flee from a place where I have a legal right to live, the rent is reasonable, the air is clear, and I’m getting work done? Montreal is beautiful. I couldn’t find any other apartments on SabbaticalHomes.com but I’ll keep looking.

Today’s poem is about staying put. Laying down my sword and shield. I submitted a one-act play to a contest for Canadian women playwrights last week. I’m meeting with a local poet on Wednesday. I reached out to a mentor in Toronto and will hopefully meet with him when he’s in Montreal next month. WordPress won’t let me upload any photos but I was all over the city last weekend when my friend came to visit. Gotta get back out there! Put on something cute or comfy and enjoy summer instead of dreaming of autumn…