If…

If you were to listen in on my thoughts for half a day, you would need a nap.

If you and I were to hang out, we would most likely have tea or red wine and I would most likely show you the heart on my sleeve. If we knew each other well enough, I would hold nothing back.

If you asked me, I would tell you that I do care what people think of me and I really wish I didn’t.

If you were at my house last Friday at about 10:00, you would have found me on the sofa after a full day of work, a meltdown from the littlest one that lasted from about 5 till 8pm, and a stressful 20 minute dash in the driving rain to an art opening (that my man was participating in) in an hour window between getting the kids in bed & the time the event was to close. At 10:00 last night I would have been found collapsed on the sofa in my 15 year old Ugg boots, watching a documentary on the twenty years of Pearl Jam, eating a Cabury Fruit & Nut Dark Chocolate bar, and doing a Sudoku.

If you were to ask me out for a meal, I would suggest brunch.

If you were to ask, I would tell you that one of the few things I miss about California is really great street cart fish tacos and watching dolphins dive in the surf on grey rainy days.

If you and I were to go shopping, I would gravitate toward simply cut pretty printed dresses that could be worn with leggings and boots, that I would fondle anything emerald, berry, tomato red, or deep lemon yellow, and I would most likely walk away with nothing because I can rarely justify buying things for myself.

If you and I were to go walking, we would most likely walk the beach though I am happy to walk anywhere with a destination or not.

If you and I were to have a laugh attack, it is possible I might tear up or snort or both. And my cheeks would definitely ache.

If you found me in the library looking for fiction, I would tell you I am looking for a good story that is grounded in place or family lineage.

If you found me in the library looking for a non-fiction book, I would most likely be near the cookbooks, home, or gardening sections or the glancing through the business section.

If you were to ask my brother’s wife, I cannot whistle or hum a tune (at least not enough to help our team win at Cranium). If you were to ask me, I have a library of music in my head and it sounds perfectly lovely and that in my dreams I am a folk-rock singer.

If you were to come over on a Sunday, we would fill our bellies with pancakes and coffee and watch my kids play with everyone still in their jammies. Bliss.

If you asked me, I would tell you that I cry during every single episode of Parenthood because I miss my family and wish we all lived in the same town, that we had Sunday dinners together, and that we would be there for each other in a way that a phone or skype can’t provide.

If you asked me, I would tell you that I am extremely loyal.

If you were to meet my kids, you would see that while one is tall and striking like her dad she has a lot of my independent yet emotionally complex spirit and that the other one looks like a miniature version of myself and is just as stubborn.

If you were to visit my home, you would find lots of books and art. You would know that there are stories behind every displayed item. And you would know that I have children really into cutting teeny tiny bits of paper and declaring each one “special” and you would be just as mystified by this as I am.

If you were to go out on a date with my fella and I, you would see a genuine love of 17 years which is rooted in being best friends. And we would probably be holding hands. You would see that he knows me better than anyone.

If you were to have met me as a little girl, you would have found a skinny, whispy haired girl in head to toe purple with a face full of freckles and a head full of ideas. You would have bumped into me putting on a production in my driveway or selling my artwork, family newspaper or novel to a neighbour.

If you were to have met me as a teenager, you would have met a whispy haired girl in head to toe black with fewer freckles and a head full of ideas. You would have bumped into me working on my arts zine, writing poetry (or my novel), going room to room collecting the recycling, or fighting with the principle about all sorts of injustices.

If you were to ask, about fears I would tell you about my fear of losing someone close to me or me leaving them to early, and that sometimes just thinking about it makes me burst into tears.

If you were to ask, I would tell you that the beach is my most favorite place in the world and makes me feel most a peace even though I had a near drowning in the ocean once and am now completely terrified of the power of the ocean.

If you were to ask me, I would tell that writing, especially personal writing, is a necessity for me. I have kept journals since I have been about six years old. I would tell you that before blogs, I wrote a weekly email to my friends and family all about things I was doings, seeing, reading, and thinking about. I would tell you that I am thrilled you are here reading this and that connecting with other like-minded souls is another reason I blog. And then I would ask you to comment and/or connect.

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