I shamelessly recommended my own essay again earlier, but I don’t care. (I wrote My Sanctuary this morning. It’s about gardening, and I think it came out sounding like me.) I’ll admit it, I enjoy sharing, and your feedback, and the intelligent back and forth. But I took your advice (everybody who commented on yesterday’s piece), and haven’t looked at my stats once. It was lovely.
I’m loving the heck out of today, writing and reading and playing my guitar, enjoying the nothing I have to do, because I’m a teacher and it’s spring break. On top of that, it’s my favorite time of year (unless it’s fall). It was a gorgeous, sunny day, and the flowering trees have just started blooming, so I’m feeling a little high.
The only thing that would make it better is if Kevin was here. He’s off on a train adventure…Chicago to Washington D.C., then eventually to Florida. He headed down there to help the snowbirds (my in-laws) pack up their winter house and drive back home. Let’s just say I don’t envy him that part, but he’s taking lots of pictures, so except for a lack of sleep, he’s having fun.
And I’m here with the pooch, giddy with freedom, enjoying my clutter-free home (I love the man dearly, but even though he’s been trying not to, he leaves a trail of stuff, and open drawers and cabinets, wherever he goes), eating whatever I want, whenever I want. (If I choose to have just cream cheese stuffed mini-peppers or kale salad for dinner, who’s to say otherwise?) Not to mention, enjoying the hours puttering in the yard and singing at the top of my lungs, without getting a funny, isn’t- that-cute look. (It’s the same look I give him, but still.)
I did break down and accomplish a few things around the house, fifteen minutes at a time here and there, and I do want to do a little batch cooking, to make reentry less difficult, but I’m in no hurry. Maybe tomorrow. Or not.