Ten pages in which to fall in love.

"Courage does not always roar. sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow." - Mary Anne Radmacher.

You want a great reminder of this sentiment? Read about Eeyore. Yes, he's often portrayed as the storm-cloud cynic of the group, and I suppose when one compares him to a simple bear like Pooh, or a bouncy Tigger, or even a small pig who refuses to give up hope in things, yes, Eeyore certainly seems the pessimist of the group. Except . . . for all his misgivings about the present--lost tail, demolished house, people forgetting his birthday--he never seems to resent his hardships, and furthermore, he doesn't carry his troubles with him into the future. Every day is a new day for Eeyore. His courage stems from waking every morning undefeated, no matted what the day before held (or didn't hold) for him. That's my favorite thing about Eeyore; that and his AWESOME taste in skyscapes.

So, the ten pages? I have to write/edit/adapt them in the next sixty hours or so, and my courage will have to come into play as a person who's pretty sure these pages will fall far short of her hope for them, but is willing to take a stab at it, anyway. Besides, if they're awful to begin with, I can only make them better, right?  And added to my quiet courage voice, I've got wingwomen to adventure along with me, as I will with them. How can I fail with WINGWOMEN?

Ten pages, ten pages I'll write in the next sixty hours, that--when read--soften the reader's heart toward a certain boy, because they see how soft his heart has become regarding a certain girl. There will be star-gazing, Shakespeare references, sharing of sanctuaries, and most of all, falling a little further in love.

Personal Note: The weather here in The Deep South has been rather warm and humid of late. Know why? Because all of the cold in IN. MY. BOOOOOOOOOOOOONEEEEEEEES!  Seriously, it's seventy degrees, but I've been cold for two days straight.


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