Sometimes we just have to let our bodies heal, let ourselves rest. I presume that whatever infection I have is a sign that I, too, need a few days’ rest. So, I’ll go to the doctor and return home to sleep the rest of the day (as much as that’s possible with two little ones about!).
I hope your Memorial Day was full of family and remembrance and that today you make time for yourself, whether it is to craft or to rest.
photo by Andrew Kilgore
I remember the librarian in first or third grade saying that they weren’t binding books any more (with the plastic spiral binding), but she would for me. I would tell stories to my great-grandmother. Now I get to make up stories for my kids; all four of them like to listen, though not usually at the same time.
This blog starts as an extension of my creative journey, a way to share my writing with others, skipping the formal publishing and using trees part. (Though one day, I will hopefully have a printed to book to share, printed on recycled paper.) I accept the notion of being a “mom blogger” since I suppose there are worse things to be called, but I know at the heart of the matter, I am who I am.
I have a dear husband who supports all my efforts. I could probably write several essays on what I believe, ranging from birth to death, Christianity to Buddhism, cleaning to art. He would listen to every one and tell me how wonderful I am at the end.
Hopefully doing this will enhance my life, my family’s life, and perhaps even yours. What I write on this blog is mostly not fiction, though some days it may seem like it; when it is, I’ll mark it as such. Everyday life has a way of creating its own stories; it just needs a voice, or in this case, fingers, to do the typing.
May we all live in the richness of life, in the simple, everyday wonders.