Dusting off cobwebs
This blog is getting dusty. I suppose its existence in the virtual world makes one chafe at such a metaphor, but I can imagine it up in the Cloud catching cobwebs. On my side of things, I see draft after draft unfinished and unpublished: a visit to a Roman Spanish town back when I was still single, thoughts on completing Czech driver's ed, my second child's birth story. Perhaps now that autumn has set in with the pallor of imminent rain and my firstborn is going to preschool a few days a week, I will seize quiet moments such as these and shake the dust off some of those drafts--or press the almighty "delete" and release those words into the abyss.
As many before me, I've entered into the realm of marriage and motherhood. I've always thrived on structure--especially one created by others--and I regularly find myself slipping and disoriented as I try to implement some sort of routine and regime into a life which shifts with each development of my children. Yet I continue on, and even dare to hope that my oldest's attendance of preschool will help me gently introduce more structure.
It's not my strong suit, despite my love of order. Anyone who saw my childhood room would know this. I constantly made piles and categorized without ever being able to slot everything away. So now I'm thinking in terms of rhythms and traditions. As summer turns to autumn, I'm reveling in those seasonal activities which have already begun. Mushrooms have been picked; plums have been transformed into jams, klevela, and chutney; and our flat currently carries the aroma of pumpkin soup. I look forward to collecting horse chestnuts and leaves (and maybe even making an autumnal wreath), and working behind the scenes to make plans for Christmas.
And perhaps, interwoven into these seasonal rhythms will be a few words on this blog.
As many before me, I've entered into the realm of marriage and motherhood. I've always thrived on structure--especially one created by others--and I regularly find myself slipping and disoriented as I try to implement some sort of routine and regime into a life which shifts with each development of my children. Yet I continue on, and even dare to hope that my oldest's attendance of preschool will help me gently introduce more structure.
It's not my strong suit, despite my love of order. Anyone who saw my childhood room would know this. I constantly made piles and categorized without ever being able to slot everything away. So now I'm thinking in terms of rhythms and traditions. As summer turns to autumn, I'm reveling in those seasonal activities which have already begun. Mushrooms have been picked; plums have been transformed into jams, klevela, and chutney; and our flat currently carries the aroma of pumpkin soup. I look forward to collecting horse chestnuts and leaves (and maybe even making an autumnal wreath), and working behind the scenes to make plans for Christmas.
And perhaps, interwoven into these seasonal rhythms will be a few words on this blog.
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