I just want to write…something.
I want it to be beautiful and complete. But there is laundry to be folded, dishes to wash and children to kiss goodnight. I can’t possibly write the depth of what is prancing though my mind so I’ll just skim the surface in order to just write….
Tomorrow evening, Boy and I will be attending a viewing for one of his high school friends. He and I have talked about this kind of day for many years. I knew it would come, but I wasn’t ready. I’m still not ready. I thought maybe when I was 80 and my friends started dying I wouldn’t mind so much, but 33?
On a lighter note.
My baby, is already 2 months old. He smiles and laughs. He makes me smile and laugh. I’m enjoying good mental health. I was worried... I wasn’t so fortunate with the last one.
The last book I read was “Wuthering Heights” by Emily Bronte over 4 months ago. I can’t believe I finished it because I hated it SO much! I couldn’t put it down.
I started sewing again. I made PJ’s for my kids this Christmas. I also started making the aprons I’ve been looking at for a while, but I didn’t get those finished yet and it’s ok.
I’m ok. I’m great actually. Quite busy, more than I’ve ever been, and although I am not allowed many opportunities to really think about the state of my being (or gussy up my blog posts with pictures or fancy fonts), I know that I’m happy and thankfully, today, that is enough.