Just call me...

I am not sure when I started it, but I can express my identity with two symbols. And, I find that it sorts the wheat from the chaff to see if folks can figure it out. I often sign my name

J9

and, for those who don't know, my first name in Janine. The last four letters are n i n e. Any way...

Things are piling up around here: worries (new van, new heating system, health of loved ones); sadnesses (son returning to Massachusetts and soaring on with his life); and this gosh danged, pain in the patooty, party crashing, boring, insufferable illness. Bluntly put-I Just Hate It.

So, given all that I think I will sign my name for now as:

J3½

but, if I stop and factor in a few other things, maybe I can up that a bit. My weekly visits with Marylou, who brings me books as well as wisdom and prayer, every Friday morning; the joy of seeing my son growing into a fine young man mixed with memories of a diaper butted little boy dragging books into my bed at 5am and cheekily saying it was time to get up; the thread of faith that courses through my life. And, if I let it in the many many other people and events that are sprinkled through my life like finding a beautiful agate on a storm drenched Oregon beach, I can see my way to:

J6½

and, for now, that isn't too bad.