Making sense

Anne Lamott, on writing ...

"We are a species that needs and wants to understand who we are. Sheep lice do not seem to share this longing, which is one reason why they write so little. But we do. We have so much we want to say and figure out.”

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Threading beads on a string ...

Doing housework is like threading beads on a string with no knot at the end. Never-effing-ending.

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Ch-ch-ch-changes ...

Today I am redecorating my home office. It occurred to me while visiting a friend's handmade soap/vintage linens shop that I, too, could have the shabby chic look in at least one room in my house ~ without having to get my husband's permission. My office, then, is in transition. I've been spray painting much of the morning ~ small metal pieces, mostly, spraying them white. Already covered a favorite reading chair in white (a flat sheet, tucked in just so ...) ~ switching out brown and blue-striped curtain panels with breezy/gauzy ones. It's all starting to come together. And I am pleased. #smalljoys



Sunday, September 7, 2014

I really hate goodbyes

I always feel like I've been punched in the gut when one of the kids leaves ... back to school, back to Omaha, back to a midtown apartment.
This time, it's Ryan, my only son, my middle child, my sensitive boy, who's returning to MU after a short weekend stay. He's been home for the better part of a year, and now he's gone again. I know he has to leave; I know he loves academia; I just hate when the leaving part happens.
I am always a sappy, emotional sad-sack when I stand out in the driveway, waving, as one of the kids backs his or her car out. I think, Is this the last time I'm ever going to see my son? My daughter?
Mother worry takes over and suddenly the possibility of Any Crisis become a Very Real Possibility.
I worry about car wrecks and blown-out tires on the interstate. With my girls, I worry about abductions and assaults. I worry about my kids feeling lonely and homesick ...and I worry about me, 'cause I'm the one who feels lonely when the house grows quiet.