Front Porch Liiiiibrrraaaairan. You there?
Despite the fact that (in my head) I had a slew of Christmas’y posts and New Year ideas, I’ve not been blogging of late. A few of you have kindly inquired if everything is okay, and the answer is YES! Life is really quite good.
So, then. Why? Why the absence?
I don’t have an answer.
I wasn’t too busy. I managed to escape seasonal depression. I still have ideas. My front porch is as awesome as it ever was. The only response I can provide is that I’ve been marinating. Thinking. Observing. Wondering. Pondering. Being.
I’m from the school of thought that children cannot be creative if they’re not given time. That in allowing for a day without any plans – even encouraging a little boredom to set in – you often produce the most inspired and interesting new game or painting or poem or what-have-you. And really, not only can children be overscheduled, but so can adults. No, I don’t have anything astonishing to roll out, but I think my brain just needed a moment to simply be. Your patience and concern are appreciated.
Meantime, I do think that (for the three of you who regularly follow me) I’ll suspend “Delicious Thursdays;” or rather, not necessarily post one every single Thursday. Quality, not quantity, is the name of the game. If I haven’t stumbled upon a Delicious Thursday pick for the week, I’m not going to sweat it.
I’ve read more than my fair share of articles about blogging. Lots of advice on when to blog and how often. In the end, however, it has to work for me.
So, I’m back. And will blog when the mood strikes me. And would love you to continue to join me on the porch. And I’ll not go on such a long hiatus (I don’t think, anyway) again, but clear-headedness is so worth it.
P.S. Below, a snippet of an email I sent to a friend of mine this past Friday. Perhaps it sheds light on the concept of the inability to be creative when you simply do not have the time…
In other news, I’ve never been so ready for a Friday. Hubs was gone all last week (home for the weekend) and all this week, too. This week, m’boy was diagnosed with Strep (Tuesday), I lost my keys (yesterday), and my car overheated and I almost didn’t make it home (Wednesday).
Yesterday looked something like this:
-wake up, shower, deal with dog, make breakfasts and lunches.
-get m’girl off to school. Dropped her off at 6:55a.m. Because it is her early morning to meet for choir.
-go to the grocery store to buy candy to refill my work candy stash, head on into work.
-work (which requires its own list, but I’ll refrain).
-pick up m’girl from school, am late, as I’ve lost my keys.
-home: dog, dishwasher, mail, laundry. Look at m’boy. He has been on antibiotics since Tuesday. He feels warm, looks terrible, says his throat is better but feels miserable.
-take m’girl to her voice lesson 6pm, leave, pick up hamburgers for dinner, return, scoop her up.
-dinner. Watch m’boy in misery. Call my Dad to get advice.
-take m’boy to Urgent Care, tell them what is up. They test him for flu, mono, and re-test for strep. Wait.
-get home (all tests negative. Conclusion: something viral), in an effort to psychologically work on him, I change the sheets on his bed, open his window, Lysol the place down. Go to the store, buy chicken soup and popsicles.
-call hubs, who is in Odessa. He listens nicely.
Is it humble bragging to point out that despite all of this, I *do* have a good life, great (usually healthy) children, and a supportive husband? I mean, I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me per se, but when I get asked “what do you like to do in your free time?” Or “what is your exercise routine?” Or ” what book are you reading right now?” (yes, I get it, I’m a librarian), it is all I can do not to roll my eyes (and even then I’m often unsuccessful). My hobby is responding and reacting to everything that gets thrown my way. It is the season of my life, and I can tell it is changing (example: m’boy drove himself to the doc on Tuesday, and I’ve not had to take off work to deal with him, which wouldn’t be the case if this happened 5 years ago)…
Martin Luther King Jr. fought for more than I can ever imagine, and I can only hope I can read some of his more meaningful writings this weekend and remind myself that, while busy, I’m fighting for my family, sanity, and a fairly decent daily life and not for the right to go places, vote, and my basic civil rights. Because then I really would crack.
Happy it is almost the weekend.
Weary. But a Satisfied sort of weary.
Contact me at fplweb (at) frontporchlibrarian dot com