Another one, almost done

How are my girls?

Feeling good?

Getting ready for the New Year?

I look forward to a new year,

always do,

seem to spend a few days,

before the end,

reflecting,

that’s me,

reflecting butch,

some might say,

self-absorbed,

maybe,

but,

aren’t all people,

who aspire to written self-expression,

just a wee bit,

self-absorbed?

So yeah,

maybe I am,

but,

I think a well lived life,

requires at the very least,

a little introspection.

Another year coming to an end,

I’ve been a little hard on myself,

this week,

low sales, hormones, snow storms,

bloody conspiracy:-P

I’ve made a few decisions,

takes a while,

when it comes to big ones,

I don’t like to admit failure,

easily,

and,

I can be stubborn and inflexible,

mostly with myself.

But, now that I have chosen,

to take a fork,

in the road,

I feel better,

lighter.

This year,

in spite of it’s business difficulties.

has been so good,

in so many ways,

I think I’ve loved my friends,

my family,

my beautiful lady,

myself,

better,

more real,

I’ve told them at every opportunity,

that I love them,

and,

I’ve made an effort,

to cut myself,

some slack,

and,

appreciate my good points,

and,

not only focus on my faults and foibles,

fact is,

I try,

I’m not a bad egg.

So for the new year,

new challenges,

re-acquainting myself,

with muscles,

that have laid,

dormant,

for many years,

and,

taking all the marvelous,

learning experiences,

that I have acquired,

in the past eight years or so,

and,

putting them to,

different uses.

Onwards and upwards.

Looking at my reading for the past year,

a few things,

stand out,

many, many less books,

than last year,

I’ve read lots,

of lesbian romances,

and,

lots of serious novels,

I’ve enjoyed them equally,

I’ve savoured more and gulped less,

I’ve read some true gems,

Swamp Angel by Ethel Wilson,

a novel that deserves more,

than a very small place,

in the Can Lit cannon,

you see this book,

in the library,

in a used bookstore,

buy it,

read it,

it’s a wonderful quiet book,

about being yourself,

without fanfare,

or blog exposure:-p

a treasure.

The three WW I,

novels, memoirs I read,

were delightfully difficult and sensitive,

the suffering men go through,

without saying,

the expectations they try to live up to,

of what is virile, manly,

can’t be easy.

Gender expectations,

for all of us,

hard to live up to,

perhaps trying isn’t the way to go,

we should seek to know ourselves,

and,

each other for what we truly are.

So book wise,

it has been a year,

loving and tortured dykes,

suffering, brave men in war time,

and,

of being yourself,

be it Ethel Wilson,

or Ivan E. Coyote,

style.

A very rich reading year for me,

in spite,

of being less numerous,

the books were good,

very good.

And you know,

so was the year,

I may be introspective,

and,

yeah,

a tad self-absorbed,

but,

I am grateful,

for all I have,

I have much,

love,

friendship,

passion,

and,

good hair,

can you really ask for much more?

oh, and I have my blog and my ‘girls’

🙂

Later girls,

BB