Traveling the world with the Nurse, writing a book in this condo and keeping this condo as just that – a Windsor Writing Station.  Much the same the new train station down the street has become realize by Windsor’s town.

9:24 AM… kids playing outside, me shredding some papers as I more and more hate paper as I age, writing as fast as I can bringing the Mike Madigan statements to a heartbeat, an active and viva actuality, if that makes sense.

Adios, to old ways and minds of me.  This day’s draft, something special, something I can’t enough of get.  Un cadeau pour moi-même.

A gift for myself.

Needed.

More languages, me speaking French to myself and listening to songs in French imagining the Nurse and I getting our morning coffee on some little street that can barely fit a car.  Not talking but just making something real, appear, be the scene.

Charmant, si charmant…

Lovely, so lovely.

My smile is not something the writer can control.  Merveilleux.

Wonderful.

Returning to this beautiful language and my learning of it one word at a time.  The onykl way I can do it….  Continuing with shredding, listening to French café tracks I just found…

Different day, feeling more committed and powerful, more playful, curious, exploratory, how do I describe?

Don’t, I tell myself.  Don’t think about it and certainly don’t analyze it, or try to define it.  RATHER, just live it.

Henry and his buddy play in the loft, Emma with them as well.  Still sipping the latte, no rush.  Thinking of Paris, me and the Nurse in a restaurant, having a glass of champagne after walking for hours.

We take a selfie, kiss, the look at all the photos we logged.  Time, moving fast, we say to each other, but we don’t obsess.  We accept, we live, love, go to another site.