In Between

Between twitter’s 140 characters and a blog post’s unlimited characters, there lies recording a thought for the sake of it, jotting down a paragraph even if you know you can’t afford time for a page. When I restarted the morning pages process (3 pages of freehand every morning before doing anything else) back at the end of December I only did the full 3 pages two days in a row. Since then it’s been one page here, a paragraph two days later, two pages a week after that. I would like to make a note of my existence every day, be it a sentence, a word, a fragment. Not everything has to be genius, fleshed out, conceived of, rehashed. Some things can be dashed off between putting the children to bed and putting myself to bed, or even putting the children to bed and stuffing my face with a burger and fries from Burger Heaven that SA is currently fetching, whattaman.

My twitterfriend Jandi decided she needed to blog every day. We are recent acquaintances so I do not think she was challenging me to a duel but regardless I think I will try it too. Without expecting perfection.

This afternoon in the park, we tossed little rubber “superballs” up the steep path and then tried to catch them on the way down. One ball was lost. The squirrel who finds it will hopefully take some delight in its rainbow colours and perfect sphere. Before trying to eat it.

We passed the Queen’s Park Preschool on our way out of the park and I was startled to see a woman sitting in a lawn chair, wearing a parka, hood up, doing some kind of craft. It was almost 5 pm, well past school pickup time. Was she a security guard? Were the coyotes breaking in to the preschool after hours to steal glue? I suddenly realized: she was camping out for preschool registration, which starts tomorrow at 8 am. She is first in line. I feel sick thinking about it. I mean, I talked to some people last summer who spent the night in line (yes, in New Westminster, BC, Canada, for a PRESCHOOL spot) and said it was an awesome bonding experience but I still think it’s twisted. And even though it is a beautiful school, situated in the park and right across the street from our house, I will be damned if I go anywhere near it, even if someone comes to my house and hands me a preschool spot for Fresco. Yur elitism: we do not want it.

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