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Wednesday, June 1, 2011

It is late.

We are moved. The children and hubsJ are nestled in their beds in new places in the rooms of my mother's house. I am here, after having read so many writings that I have missed, the mothers of the world who regularly write in this place, with their messups and tried hards and their questions and answers and photos and wonderings, its a big mashup of yes! most of the time, and it is good. the move is done, everything but what i brought on my back is in a box somewhere waiting to be unloaded...and thats really all i have to say about that. it is done. 
we are having our summer days right now, the stretch of green into sprinkler spray, the re-learning patience in a structure-less day...the putting off of errands, the quick hum of a fullbody tick-check, the summer haircuts to ease the tangle's lives.
My hearing is on-hold right now, as it was during most of the move.  An infection upon infection and I am weaving a very quiet world view right now.  I don't think I'll be around here very much as to parent in this large place I need to have eyes involved, no rest for the weary. it would be self-defeating, i would imagine. how then would i name myself weary, if i were to take it away?
I've been wondering a lot these days what story I want to tell, which part of life do I want to tell? what i focus on will thrive. what story do I want to tell of my life? is this what there is to me?

1 comments:

Viv said...

I'm glad the move is done. Moving sucks, but, moving while sick is so much worse. Feel better!