If you were a river of whiskey, and I was a diamond jar....

Tiny seizures. Tiny sparks. In the dark, as the fan hums in the distance, as James' quiet breath leads him into his restful oblivion, I cannot stop. I am tense. I am drained. I turn. There. Suddenly a jabbing sensation invades my left calf and charges up through these strange tunnels, myelin covered wonderlines, and draws up hands and feet and back and shoulders and...there it goes. Gone.

And then another, my ear - down the side of my head to my shoulders, hands and feet. My eyes smart momentarily, but I brave up and stay the jolting of my body causing Jim to turn and hold tight, as if to hold me down, like it would make a difference.

Nothing makes so much difference as a good nights sleep. That difference is something that I've been fighting for so long. Even now, as I sit in this chair writing you and listening to Claire Campbell play her saw, her sister Page in quiet harmony, the minutes pass, the morning comes so quickly. I am left weighted.

"I can feel my life beating slow, I can feel my life beating low, I can feel your mind, It's right in line with my mind..." - Hope For Agoldensummer, New Whiskey River, Adriadne Thread

I'm still braving it every day at my new job. I have a few wonderful co-workers who trade tasks with me when I need to stay off of my feet. The bottom of my feet are all pins and needles. My boss said that if I needed to wear houseshoes around the office, I can...as long as they're not bunny slippers.



When I come home, James is there. If I feel like I want cook, most times whether or not I have the strength, I do. If not, he takes care of everything. Slow motion. Slow motion these days. Waiting for all of the little symptoms to disappear. We don't know what this is really, a mini-attack...my body warning me to take it easy. Some days I convince myself that I am invincible, that I have all of the energy in the world. I overdo it. James is my sounding board, he's my common sense, he's my tucker-in when he finally convinces me to rest.

I'm in the midst of my second attempt at drawing a Holiday card for all of you. If they don't make it into the mail by Christmas, I'll email them. They'll be beautiful, I promise you.

Love you Kids. Send me suggestions for GREATEST HOLIDAY ALBUMS.
I'm working on a mixtape.

SL