My dad comes on Friday.  I am so excited.

He's bringing his brother with him and that makes me even happier.

He called last night.   

Should we bring our passports?
Of course you should. 

My answer to that question will always be yes.  I love that question.

Have you made any plans yet?
I have some ideas.  But nothing definite.
Good. 

If you see me, I'll be grinning.  I love no plans.  I love my dad.  I love my passport.  There's a lot to grin about.

Today I am going to a pool of salt water on the edge of the lake.  Why go to a pool when you live on the lake?  Because they have nice loungy chairs.  Because they are next to a cute restaurant that delivers BLT's to us.  And because sometimes the bottoms of lakes get to me.

I'm going with my mentor and closest friend here.  She just won a battle in her body and I am so grateful for time with her.  She has a son who is really a little man trapped in a child's body.  We're both from far away and we both have a love hate relationship with this town.  We'll spend the first part of our time with words like: Can you believe that?  Where else would something like this happen?  Only here.  We'll shake our heads and roll our eyes.

And then we'll look around and sigh.  Because we live in a beautiful place.  And because the rough wildness really does appeal to us.  As much as it shocks us. 

Last night I had a couple of girls over.  I made sangria in the afternoon, my first time, and I was nervous about it.  So nervous that I bought a couple extra bottles of wine, just in case.

It turned out delicious.  It was so good that my single batch should have been a double.  Not really, but last night we wished that it was.  We listened to our friend talk about marriage and mystery and I was insanely jealous for a few minutes.  We painted our toes.  We laughed too hard.  And then, I introduced them to night swimming.

I am mad about swimming at night.  I can't think of anything I like better.  At the moment.

Yesterday I made a new friend and we went to the beach to write.  Instead we had one of those conversations that riles me.

I hate being riled.

I told him.  I've had this conversation a thousand times.  With a hundred people, I'm sure you have too.  And it makes me very tired.  Tired and weary.  Please, lets talk of seagulls or sailing.

I think some people enjoy getting crazy inside.  I tell myself that it's something we have to get out of our system.  It made me grateful for my God.  It made me hang on to this thought: my God is big.  And I am small.  And my words for Him are even smaller.  And please God, don't let me forget.

If I do.  Squash me.  Please.

Hey guess what?

My dad is coming!  On Friday!  Yeah!