Araminta,
Brewster has a message for you:  "I've got my eye on you!"

Total relaxation. I do this and fall on the floor on my head.

After all my ranting, after all my bitching, after all my "she doth protest too much" protesting...
...I have a Twitter account.
I read a very convincing essay on a women's blogging site that basically spoke to me as, If you want to get published, GET OVER your resistance to platform.
So I got over it.
And got addicted. Traded resistance for total submersion.
"Are you tweeting again?" my fully supportive, deeply encouraging, totally neglected husband asked me just five minutes ago. (I wasn't; I was checking Facebook!)
Ever since I started thinking that I might need to consider the possibility of having a Twitter presence, I've been thinking about my Twitter name -- JewellofaWriter -- and when I signed on and that name was available, well, obviously that is a sign.
Now everyone thinks I've totally lost my mind but really, I was hurting no one but myself by resisting Twitter. If that's part of the plan to get publish, then bring it on.
Here's something else, though: Having experienced the rapid pace and addictive nature of Twitter, I can see why there are so many articles about meditation and why people need to do it and why more people are doing it. We need to rest our minds. We need a chance to de-Twitter, de-Facebook, de-... I've run out of ideas but you get my drift.
I've added another monkey to the playpen that is my mind. Not sure if I can handle it or not but damn if "JewellofaWriter" ain't catchy!

We lost a hen yesterday -- but Abby tried to save it!
Happened while Mum and I were in Moncton (yes, shopping -- but not buying).
When we arrived home at 4:30, I said, "I'd better take Abby for a walk."
Dwayne said, "Oh, she doesn't need one. Abby, tell your mother what you did."
Dwayne said he was on the front deck and knew Abby was around back. When he went to find her, though, she was gone. 'One-armed Willis' jumped on the four-wheeler and went back the road to search for her. Finally, she responded to his calling by rushing out of the woods at the top of the field.
Since I needed a walk, we went anyway and on our way back, I decided to cut through the field instead of going back down the lane. That's when I spied feathers sticking to the dried grass.
I knew them immediately: They were Blondie's feathers.
Blondie was one of our two Americauna hens who lay green-shelled eggs. Both Blondie and Annie (she's orange, named for Anne of Green Gables) are excellent layers. They also are hens who fly out of the pen to wander around the yard. Abby runs after the chickens but I can't tell if she's chasing or herding. She stops as soon as I tell her to but she's quick and I worry she'll hurt the chicken by making it run too fast.
When I found the feathers in the field, I looked at Abby and said, "Did you kill a chicken? Did you?"
She did not answer but she looked upset. Guilty?
I showed Dwayne the feathers as soon as I got back to the house.
"Fox," he said.
"But maybe Abby -- "
"Nope. That's why she disappeared. She was chasing the fox."
She was trying to save one of her chickens.

The last of Blondie's feathers and the last egg she laid. 

Actual conversation, based on Mother being annoyed that a place she wanted to go for some shopping is -- shocking -- closed on Sunday during the winter season.

Me: "Well, we could go to Sunnyside Mall today [to shop for my Awards gala outfit] instead of Wednesday afternoon."
Mum: "Oh, no, you have lots of work to do."
Dwayne: "What's the difference if you go today or Wednesday? It's six of one, half dozen of another."
Long pause.
Me: "That's too much math for me."

So we're still sitting here not knowing what to do. But I have a crap load of work to do so I guess I'm going shopping for an outfit.

It's been a tough couple of weeks; too much chaos, too many deaths. My heart feels squeezed out.
Archie does his best to keep me smiling. He's so bad but you can't be mad at him 'cause he's so darn cute. 

Doing yoga with Mommy. I'm helping learn to ignore super-cute distractions.

Snuggles on Papa's recliner. Hey, you with heavy head!

You know when you sit down with an occupational therapist because you want an assessment of the ergonomics of your work space and the first thing he recommends is meditation that you might have a little too much on your plate.

"You're a little tightly wound," he said to me.
In my defense, I woke up with and still had a headache that made my head feel like it was being squeezed in a vice so I was desperate to find some relief for the neck and shoulder problems that I associated with that.
"How is it that when I go away for a week or I'm sick, and not doing any of my stretches, no yoga, my body feels its best? No pain in my back, no pain in my shoulders or neck, no headaches. We're supposed to exercise to be healthy and live a long time but I think it's killing me."
I was a tiny bit whiny by the time I landed in his office at 3 o'clock. 
The OT simply said, "It's stress."
Ah.
"You're doing too much."
Really? I hadn't noticed.

My To Do lists: Ongoing, and next week's appointments.

But he was right. As soon as he spoke about breathing, I realized I'd been breathing from my upper chest for weeks. Rushing through the stretching in the mornings, sick for two weeks, mind always thinkingthinkingthinking. I'd stopped breathing deeply and had lost the calming effect of getting enough oxygen infused into my body.
So for the next six weeks, my morning stretching time will become a morning mediation time and my exercise will be walking the dog -- which he claims is my "me" time -- and every night at bedtime, I'm writing 5 things I'm grateful for in a journal. Which simply reminded me that I'd also been rushing, or eliminating, my morning prayers and daily intention from the end of my yoga practice. More "me" time swept away by doing too much.
It's so hard to accept when a complete stranger takes one look at you and tells you what's wrong -- especially when there's nothing you can or WANT to do about it because all of the stuff that is making me busy, all of that stuff on the To Do lists, are in pursuit of what I really want to accomplish.
Short term pain for long term gain.
Funny thing is just hearing him identify the real source of my shoulder and neck pain (which resulted in the head pain) helped to relieve the pain and strain. Knowledge is a powerful cure.
But I still did my meditation and walk this morning and it was very nice to feel like myself again.
There's still something wrong with my office chair, though. It's not all in my mind!