It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to...

With each birthday I allow myself the indulgence of reflection. Time should be a teacher; daily tapping us on the shoulder with reminders of the lessons taught through childhood, school days, being parented, parenting, and the ebb and flow of life. Granted the energies are different with each stage, but on this birthday I am aware that while my joints remind me of my age, in my subconscious I can be seven year old Beatrice Baker or a character (you haven't met Loretta yet) whose life has beaten her down, yet she celebrates every sunset. And, on this, my birthday, that is what I wish you...celebrate your sunsets. May they be many. And, might they remind us all that dawn is just around the corner.

Where do they go?

I sometimes ponder what I was doing with my imagination before I began writing. I wonder where all of the thoughts are that might have provoked a title, a chapter, a book...? I guess some people journal, so they have a reference to go back to; I wish I had, but I had a family (husband & five kids), add their mates to that, and then the grand kids. What a well of inspiration those journal entries would be to draw from now. I am, however, blessed with a very good visual memory, and I draw on it a lot in my writing, which is very descriptive. But I still can't help but wonder where all of the lost thoughts end up...? Don't you? If you know, please share!!