Sometimes, when you're brimming with the want to write, and you pray for the world to stop so that you can capture the thoughts before they get lonely and leave, and then wish your fingers Godspeed across that white space when a block of time either appears or is carved out of flesh, what you thought you'd write is superseded by what needs to be written.
Not everything can be composed, marked down and rendered faithfully. There's always another take, something highlighted or missed or invisible. The luxury of being able to have even this stunted literary form of bloggery is a gift to mothers. And so, I can't help but expose one interlude missing from Nadine's post today.
One of the errands mentioned within was that she needed a profile picture for her new job, and needed it by tomorrow, and I was thrilled to be asked to take it. I'll admit one of my faults is that I don't look at people enough. My eyes are always wandering, toward a kid, a dog, beach glass, butterflies...and sometimes I think they're happiest looking through a camera lens. The luxury of being able to snap something, and enjoy it later at leisure often extends to having a pretty friend as much as it does to folk art installations and ethereal golden children.
While I'll admit to the hope of taking payment for the service in the form of a glass of my favourite Whisky and some chocolate cake at Leslie Jones some night soon, I'll also say that laughter and kindnesses to my child are payment enough.
I don't imagine professional photographers would have a little deer interrupt the session by hiding in the bushes and calling out repeatedly to "Take a picture of the deers in the forest!".
Nor would businessy grown-up clients offering financial remuneration be happy to hunker down and act like a deer.
And even try to make deer faces with her...
And a "real" customer certainly wouldn't laugh so hard at my story of how I'd read an autobiography telling how Shelly Winters fixed her crooked teeth with her own bare hands and "invented" the open mouthed smile that she then made famous.
Someone more business-like might have arranged for childcare, so that "baby deers" did not need to have their pictures taken balancing on the edge of the forest, or communing with bees, or eating thyme.
But you can't know that it's a bright spot in a shitty day. You're immersed in your own worries, like when for the lack of groceries and the time to go shopping for them you offer only an iced tea in your best vintage glass, and hope that a quickly rinsed mint leaf from the garden fancies it up and that the little Lindt chocolate umbrella seemed quirky and fun instead of stingy.
And oh, if only you can know, or do, or say or find something to make the rest of the day as fine a collection of moments as that visit was in mine.
Because even if I too had a day with my own miseries - tantrums and debt and neighbourhood meetings and pms and worries and so many things to do that didn't get done - my commiseration is only a balm and we're still each a bit alone in our stress and sadness. Other days have left me crying too, and when I see these great pictures of one of my warmest friends, I never want to even think of her being sad. I want to smile, and think that there are only a handful of people in this world that understand that letting a baby deer eat thyme out of her hands in our living room made someone else's day better too.
If it's any consolation, Nadine, for three of us, I think a few things went beautifully at least for a little while today.
Who knows what we'll remember when it takes more than a couple of zaps with a Photoshop tool to wipe out our gray hairs and fade our under eye mommyness - and while we might fade the laugh lines just a bit in professional-type profile pics, I'm glad to know that really, we deepened them today too.