ok - in my heart of hearts...honestly? what is it i want to do with my one precious life? do i have a clue? abso-frickin-posa-lutely. down to the very last finest detail. i dream about it at night. i daydream it at day. i change up details. i add some of this. and that. i want to build a respite house. the KitaBear Respite House. for women. who just need a night, weekend, week or two away. to make art and take long baths and be loved and accepted and welcomed. to be listened to....really listened to. and to be seen as the shining light that they are. and maybe forgot. or maybe haven't been told in a while. i know every last nail and shingle on this big beautiful structure...i know the colors of the fiestaware on the shelves, and the size of the guestrooms, and where the kennel is located. because you HAVE to be able to bring your pals! i know all this, and have known for a while that this is my Job...to make it happen. and so i will. and soon, i feel. cross your fingers on the lotto! ***so i just got a frantic call from husband in CT (the only husband..it's just that he's in CT...not a DIFFERENT husband, he's just in a DIFFERENT state. just to clarify). i had planned an hour in the studio, then early to bed. not to be had. first diva NEEDED some toy time with me and cowpig, her new fave toy. (is it a cow? a pig? we aren't sure). so husband calls...all tense & terse. he's out of town all week at a few major vendor shows. just bought all brand-spankin new clothes saturday and they rushed alterations overnight. guess where they are? no - guess! yep - hanging on the rod outside his closet. his closet at home - where i am and he is not. now i am not saying one single word. but guess who has to find a box and overnight these brand spankin new and altered rush rush clothes to CT? and the reason i am not saying a word is because he overnighted a certain altered box to me in NH when i went all novacaine brain. so the universe spins. HOWEVER, if i was to say anything (which i am not) i would point out that perhaps he may want to just test my theory of packing the night before instead of the minute after he's supposed to leave. just a theory thought point whatever. i fully realize MY way of doing it (3 weeks ahead, then again 1 week ahead, then re-do everything the night before) is a bit overwhelming for the un-OCD, but it does have it's merits. so now i have a whining dog, a whining husband, and a not-early night, but a very early morning, as i have to find a box, fold stuff neatly and find the Fedex terminal at the buttcrack of dawn. then work. breathe. or not. oy. L.