This an older photo of mine, one of the first ones I took from a plane. I also think of this shot as an angry cloud. I am not sure so sure why, perhaps it feeds my natural gooey angst center. The last several weeks I have been locked in a battle of wills with my daughter. Seems my very existence pains her. I miss my daughter, the one who used to live here, the one with the quirky in your face sense of humor, the one that knows despite my force of nature tendencies--that I am always on her side. I am waiting for her to come back--I caught a glimpse of her last week peeking out between rolling eyes and looks of utter disdain, for a second the facade dropped and there she was. I have been told this is normal and if I can keep her alive from about 17-20 that my daughter will return. If I am lucky, I am told she might even return sooner. I miss her and I am tired of being angry. I have decided to let her stew a few more days and I then I am going to get chisel and hammer and see if I can crack that hard shell. If that doesn't work, I employing ninja strategies.
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