Every year, as my semester and boys' school year winds down, I start to get antsy. Twitchy. Ready to cast off all of the schedules, responsibilities, and the hurly burly of the academic year and get immersed in some real thinking. I envision long, lazy days filled with cool drinks and warm breezes and lots of lounging in a chair with piles and piles of books. It's time to reset, recharge, get inspired, and escape into stories that are not my own. Books and words are a balm for my soul that gets neglected in the rush rush hurry hurry of the other seasons of the year. Summer: my time for reading, relaxing, and restoration before the next season of crazy. Sigh.
Somehow, I don't think this dream of mine is going to work out.
Because, have you met my boys?
And did I happen to mention that I just moved?
To a farm?
With lots of hay to be cut and a crop to be planted and no farmer to be found?
And, since you were wondering, my oldest just asked if I knew where his toothbrush was. Because HE HASN'T SEEN IT SINCE WE MOVED. Well over a week ago. AND HE JUST DECIDED TO MENTION IT NOW. Which means, of course, that one hasn't been USED since at least then.
Can I get an eewwwwwww?
So, it looks like there is not going to be much slowing down to contemplate, recharge, and reflect. Not with all these muddy souls, dirty teeth, and boxes pleading to be unpacked. There will be no completeimmersion. But, there will be flirtations and dalliances with books. . . stolen little moments of bliss, when I will be wantonly unfaithful to all of the unpacking that needs to be done.
To that end, I may not have a farming plan yet, but I have a summer escape plan.
I'm going to start here.
And then work my way through these.
Ambitious? Yes. Unlikely? Certainly. It's certainly a miracle that these were found in the mess that is this house. And, despite all of the other responsibilities in my life, I contend that there's a greater likelihood that I will plow through this stack than I will actually get my three new fields plowed and planted.
Happy (illicit) reading.