I have a confession to make: I didn't write this summer. Like, not at all.
Seriously, those aren't
the best words coming from a writer.
But, you know what, I'm okay with that.
Why? Because I really couldn't write.
I literally had no will, or want, to write
Okay. Another confession: I did write a poem or two.
But, they were absolute trash.
Which again, I'm okay with.
No one but me will ever see those.
And now that we're being honest, I have to be even more honest
and say I had the most fun hanging with my kids,
rather than writing.
Because, it wasn't forced and I didn't have any
deadlines or crazy things I HAD to write.
Nope. None of that. And I liked it.
A summer off. A sabbatical, if you will.
Just me, the kids, the pool and everything
else in between.
What is "in between" you say?
Well here, let me share.
I went here (thanks Aunt Shelby!):
I did a lot of this:
Watched a lot of this of my oldest:
Hung out with these two cuties some:
Agreed thoroughly with this statement:
Chilled with Team Spiva:
Did a little of this:
Put up with this sweet one's (my youngest) shenanigans:
Tried not to think how high up I was on this Tahoe gondola:
And now we're doing this (first day of school):
I also read a TON.
So, it's not like I was twiddling my thumbs.
But, it's back to it, I suppose ...
the whole writing thing
and here's hoping I'll have something written worth reading
I'm still going to be a pain about you writing. Breaks are okay, but you're a storyteller...an excellent one.ReplyDelete
Thanks Alan. WHY it took me this long to reply is beyond me. It must've been the sabbatical. I forgot everything.ReplyDelete
Considering the fact that you posted in August and I responded in November, it probably took Blogger that long to process it. :)ReplyDelete
Ha ha ha! You're awfully kind to an old lady like me who has memory problems. ;) Happy Palm Sunday to you.ReplyDelete