The first of July. Wow! Where did June go? Disappeared in a haze of working for money, splitting wood, tackling Mt. Washmore in the laundry/bathroom, cancer treatments and bleaching the toilet, two weekends away to visit family and friends...I am tired and summer has only really just begun.
My youngest son, Finn, has moved back into the house at 16 after leaving at 14. He seems far older than his years, which is a little unnerving as I keep thinking of him as being around 20 and am surprised when I do finally remember his actual age.
We have a new kitchen roof, more split wood in the backyard than we've ever had, a lush garden that definitely needs weeding tomorrow, and a brand new bed and mattress. So, why do I feel frustrated and frazzled and can barely hear myself think?
I feel I am missing something, caught up as I am in the whirlwind of teenage boys and their friends, my husband and his needs. I think it must be that sense of peace and quiet that I only find while driving alone for hours at a time or writing. I have not found time or space for these pleasures lately and find myself alternating between bursts of strange frustrated anger and weeping. I can do without the anger but actually like the weeping as once I am done in a few minutes time, I feel slightly refreshed, like when a quick shower passes through and lowers the temperature and humidity outside. Here's to hoping this holiday weekend will lend itself to some contemplation and writing.
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