Our week off is slowing dwindling to an end.  It was not the excitement I expected (we did not end up going anywhere) but being a part of a family means learning to be flexible.  I have had time to go to the gardens and take pictures.  I have also had the opportunity to write, which I have not had these past few weeks because school has been way too busy.

I cannot even imagine how it would feel to actually have your day open up to write.  I am always writing it snuck in here or there, wherever I can take it.  It is not easy, but truthfully I do feel a sadness in my heart when I cannot express myself.  It does not matter if the poem is about me or not – what matters is that I need to do it.  This is strange, thinking that not…