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….
something.
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.
Gwenevere