THE KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON POSTER

Months ago, I marked my calendar for today.  "Register WOTS" I wrote.  That's Write On The Sound, a writing conference that happens annually in Edmonds, Washington.  I look forward to it every year, and this is the first year I am not working full time on the first day of registration.  I might get all the classes I want.  When I followed the prompts, some things worked and some things crashed on the WOTS website.  There was a notice on the first page that read:  If your registration fails, close all windows and begin again.  I finally was successful in  registering after four tries and three re-boots.  These difficulties must relate to the overburdening of the system on the first day of open registration. 

Now, as I write my blog, The Widow Lessons, I have a case of Do-over Registration Failure Instructions Envy.  I want one of those.  Doesn't every widow?  Just the idea of a do-over feels like peace on earth.  Doesn't it, just.  

I've been babysitting more often than I should, although I am the sole determiner of how much babysitting I do.  It sounds sweeter to call it "Nanapalooza" or "Grandbaby Time" but, trust me, it's babysitting to watch anyone under twelve.  Especially if you love deeply.  Presently, I have six in that category.   It so happens that July brought many trips, obligations, celebrations, unintended consequences that all fell in line, one day after another,  for all three of my adult children.  I'm fatigued to the max, and when that happens, I forget how to "be in the moment" because I don't have any moments.  I'm on a vigil of care with dire consequences of failure.  It's true what they say about love being your heart, walking around in someone else's body.

Being stressed, being kept away from solitude, being unable to write -- all of these things cause my sugar carb monkey to show up, jump on my back and ride me, sun to sun.  I was lucky that I was able to waddle on over to my computer to write this blog.  Sugar Carb Monkey knows only the limit of "that's all there is."  Once I run out, the only way to get more carbs and sugars in the house would be to get in the car and drive to the store -- both of which I don't want to do with kid(s) in tow.  Sometimes the problem is also the salvation.

I learned recently that the ubiquitous "Keep Calm and Carry On" poster that features a big royal crown was actually developed in WW II Britain as an inspirational message from the British government to its people.  Two and a half million were printed out with the plan to air drop all over everywhere; however, at the last minute, officials decided it was not the right timing.  Only a few ever got into the hands of commoners.  A bookstore acquired them many years later, and used the slogan to sell things.  Only a few of the originals remain, including some reappearing on Antiques Road Show.  The message was a real one, for real people in grave danger.  It's everywhere today, again.  Still. 

I have today and tomorrow off from babysitting.  I pick up a grandchild from school tomorrow afternoon, to keep until Saturday.  He'll be in pre-school most of Thursday and Friday.  As I write this, big tears are starting to surge forward into my usually dry eyes.  My nose is starting to vibrate.  I miss him. 

Stay Calm.  Carry On.