Feelings are running too deep. Emotions too close to the surface.
And I need to find focus, focus, focus for writing.
Last night, during what should have been a funky, relaxed, impromptu evening around the dining room table, things got out of hand.
The Man, for reasons related to the family business' bottom line, tends to vote - in national races - red. I, for reasons related to Supreme Court composition and our daughter's future freedom (not to mention social justice issues like our health care crisis) vote straight blue.
Small child was painting. Lori from Do You Realize? had dropped by to help me finish the margaritas from last Friday's cookout. Her eldest, off to college on Friday, wandered in. The Man entered the room, picked up some paint brushes, and started his own masterpiece. Conversation wandered to Sunday night's candidate interviews with Rick Warren.
I've been trying so hard these last few months to stay centered, to just listen, to refrain from making my views known among those who already know them. But The Man, alone in a nest of estrogen-pumped, tequila-lubed liberals, became a bit more provocative and a little less respectful of my opinions than - in my tender state - was appropriate. This resulted in tears.
I recovered quickly - in mid sentence, actually - but after a good night's sleep I've decided to back off from the political in this space.
In my first entry, I referred to the "cerulean blue of peace." We all need that peace in our lives, now more than ever.
So be patient with me, please, as I stumble back to introspective substance.
Blue in heart, action, voting, living