The kids are in bed, the cat naps, Sam is reading the paper, and all is peaceful. I’m sitting with the glow of the computer on my face and a hot mug of Irish Breakfast Tea at my side. Now, time to write….
I’ve got nothing.
A few small thoughts swirl… no, make that lazily float… through my head:
- I want Jane Eyre to play in a city not in the bowels of Atlanta
- my handful of vacation days next week are fast turning into a cram errands and cleaning into a half-week of work
- I can’t wait to finish amassing my books for the 24 Hour Readathon
- I foresee baking an Orange Sticky Cake in the future
- I really like Tea
- I really like my new memory foam mattress
See? Nothing of substance.
In fact, I’ll tell you of my epiphany yesterday at the grocery store. Publix had tinned tomatoes on sale and I stocked up. While I’m loading my cart I’m muttering “one can never have too many tinned tomatoes.” Then I realized I sounded like someone’s grandmother. Then I realized that this is the wisest sentence I have ever uttered; it will be my catch phrase in old age. My “something nasty in the woodshed” type sentence to proclaim at inopportune moments to intentionally boogle the young folks. I can see it now, “there, there, Granny, we know all about the tomatoes.”
The epiphany: one day I will be a kick-ass old lady.
The other day I was sitting on the couch nursing Atticus and letting my brain wander. I realized that my haphazard, wandering thoughts aren’t very disconnected. Each snippet of thought, or idea, or memory is a piece of me. Pieced together they make a sort of quilt. A blanket I like to cozy under when I’m daydreaming (which is quite often of late).
So today I present to you, my few readers, my first installment of brain quilting. You might be asked to endure various and sundry thoughts rather than a proper post with some regularity in the future:
- Today we had our first light powdering of snow. Of course, as this is Georgia, this may very well be our only snow. Earlier this year we had several snows as opposed to our once-a-year dusting, and I truly hope it keeps up. I love the snow. Not only do I love the bite in the air, but I love the bluish quality of everything. The air, trees, and blank-blue-whiteness of my walls make me feel baby-pure and fresh.
- In the wee morning hours I find I’m not skilled with finding burp clothes and having them at the ready when Atticus feels the need to split up on my clothing at 3 a.m. This means that I often have several “ensemble” changes to my nighttime wardrobe throughout the night. In addition, I get cold and tend to add layers. Well, the other morning I realized that I looked like a wizard. That is, a wizard attempting (and failing) to dress like a muggle. I was wearing a brown tank top, orange and gold “old man sweater”, pink flannel pajama pants covered with a teapot print, white socks, and red canvas shoes. If I ever look THAT ridiculous again I promise to post a picture.
- I purchased new pens. I enjoy how they glide across the page.
- Speaking of which, I’ve been journaling lately and watching BBC dramas.
- Why did I not read Elizabeth Gaskell untl 2010? WHY?
- In other bookish thought clouds, I’m over-the-top excited about my reading plans for next year.
- I still wish I lived in a crumbling English manor.
- In order to be sane and happy, I have to avoid loneliness. Avoid loneliness, but carve out time for solitude. Any introvert will tell you (holla) that loneliness and solitude are vastly different.
- I feel my pre-Atticus indulgence of waking at 4 in the morning to read and bake and write and stitch will be coming back soon.
- It is late, the kiddos are sleeping, and I’m planning on cutting out all the lights, drinking peppermint tea, and staring and the glow of the Christmas Tree.