This is randomness.

I am sitting here and supposedly I am going to work on my book. Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m supposedly going to do. But I’m not convinced. I’m trying to get used to this weirdness. What weirdness, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you. The weirdness of not having any living soul around. That’s right. My family has evacuated the premises. Even George has to be gone a lot. He’s trying to finish the PhD he’s working on, so he’s staying several days a week at my sister’s house in Nacogdoches. And I’m trying to get used to this.

To match my mood, I have all the music on my computer set to shuffle. So I go from Shane Bernard to Nickel Creek to Diana Krall to Dashboard to who-knows-what, and it keeps me from concentrating. Some of the music makes me sing along, and some makes me get up and dance, and some I just listen to in awe and appreciation (like the gorgeous choral music playing at this moment). I could turn it off, but the silence would keep me from concentrating, too. True dilemma. Or good excuse. One of those.

I had a nice birthday. Very nice, really. And it’s still not over. Birthday month. That’s my policy. I get the whole month. So, yesterday, I got presents and dinner out and Pirates of the Caribbean (WOW! Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom. Dreamy pirates!) and chats with my kids and cards and e-mails and lots of spoiling in general. Today I went to Tyler, and five of my GFF friends (see former post) took me to lunch and gave me a nice gift certificate. Friday, another friend is taking me to lunch.

I had a really fun imaginary birthday party yesterday at 4:28 PM with ragamuffen. Luke came, too. He was a pirate (no surprise . . . I’m all about Jack Sparrow. Oh man.) He slew dragons for us. We’re going to make imaginary parties a ritual. They’re so convenient, inexpensive, and easy to clean up after.

Norah Jones just started singing Seven Years. What a lovely, mellow voice she has!

My parents called and sang happy birthday on my answering machine, and then they laughed at themselves because they were pathetic, and I thought about how cute they are. They are in Colorado right now. They mentioned that it snowed last night, but it melted. My dad wants to stay there. My mom wants to go back to Dallas. They’ve been having that discussion for 20 years now.

What an interesting thing this life is. Generations with their blessings and curses passed down. I’ve had so many more blessings than curses. I don’t take that for granted. I’m thankful for loving parents, for an amazing husband, for unbelievable children. And now I get to learn how to be thankful for silence and for times alone. Aloneness will teach me. So I’ll embrace it, always glad for e-mail and telephones and weekends when George and Jacob will be here. I’ll cherish holidays that bring Grace and Luke. This is part of my life. So I might as well look for the beauty and purpose. I’m too sanguine by nature to do anything else.

Coldplay is singing The Scientist. Chris Martin dates Gwyneth. I guess that has some significance. To him, anyway.

Whoever you are reading this, I hope all is well in your world. If you have people around you, enjoy them. Drink them in. Notice the color of their eyes and how many freckles they have. Then, when they’re gone, you’ll still be able to count the freckles in your happy memories.

Well, enough rambling. I can do this. I can work on my book. I’ll probably have to turn off the music, though.

Okay, silence. It’s just you and me. . . . Wanna go out for coffee?